Werewolf Futa Stories
by natales2017
Summary: This is a collection of stories published in Jamie White's book, Futa Werewolves, Horny Woman.
1. Werewolf Femdom

**Disclaimer: This story does not belong to me, all rights reserved for Jamie White.**

Tags: Futa, Werewolf, Yuri.

 **Werewolf Femdom**

 **1**

Jessica tried moving her arms, but they were roped down tight. She looked up at the hooded woman, the mysterious woman, and smiled. By all accounts, she should've been scared. She was tied down, and this strange person whom she did not recognize stood over her, the only thing revealed was breasts, barely contained by a bra.

But this is just as Jessica had hoped for it to become.

"What are you going to do to this poor, tied up princess?" she said seductively.

She also knew, in her head, she could truly get rid of the ropes at any moment if she wanted to.

The woman looked down at her. Jessica saw that she had confident brown eyes, the kind of eyes that a woman only has if she knows exactly what she wants and has no shame in admitting to it. Her lips formed a confident, excited smile, and she had flowing black hair that showed a great deal of care.

"Fuck you senseless," she said in the most low-key, confident way possible.

Jessica looked up at the ceiling, away from the woman, and when she looked back down, she was lying on her stomach, her head in front of her pussy. She sniffed around, and let out a cry. Jessica smiled, but this felt a bit weird. What woman let out a cry like a wolf before eating a woman out? Certainly she'd never had it happen before.

The woman then, without warning, seemed to bury her head into her pussy. Not metaphorically—literally seemed to bury her head into her pussy. Jessica cried out in shock, this sensation unreal… kind of unnatural.

But damn hot all the same.

"Oh God, you fucking woman," she said.

She didn't even know her name. She could barely remember having met her. In any case, all of that went to the wayside as she muzzled and flicked her tongue around inside her, hitting every spot that needed to be hit.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped out.

She looked down at the woman, playing with her breasts, as she desperately tried to move her arms and legs to wrap her legs around her or to put her hands on her hand. But the force simultaneously seemed too tight and not at all there, an unusual dynamic that made Jessica feel like she was in an odd place.

Then the woman came out of her pussy and looked into her eyes. Without losing eye contact, the woman double-fisted Jessica, who again began squirming.

"Fuck me, yes, yes, yes!"

The woman did just that with her hands, pounding her pussy with her fingers and fists. She loved looking into her eyes. It's like she controlled how her body reacted—if she smiled, as she did, it raised her tension. If she slanted her eyes into an intense gaze, the physical sensation rose, albeit without the emotional component.

After a few minutes of fisting, the woman removed her fists and took her pants off, revealing… a strap-on dildo. That, Jessica did not expect. Jessica chuckled, looked up, but before she could look down, she felt the dildo penetrate. Actually, she didn't even feel that—it was as if time had frozen, and when time resumed, the woman was already in there. She pounded, making Jessica's body shake and bounce, and she began tensing, pulling tightly on the ropes.

"FUCK!"

She could then feel a strange sensation fill her body. It was kind of like orgasm, yes, but it wasn't exactly that. It was much hotter—literally—and almost a bit more quick-rising, as if what was about to happen was a moment and not an event. The woman pounded with increased ferocity as her tension increased, and she saw her eyes grow wide.

"Oh, fuck," she said.

She felt the tension rising, reaching a crescendo in almost no time, and the woman's facial expression—as well as the feeling of swelling inside—made her feel like they were about to simultaneously cum, even though the woman couldn't.

"Yes! Fuck me!"

Then, she felt her body seem to explode.

Suddenly, though, the woman was gone. The ropes were gone. Jessica still felt a warm sensation running through her, as if she had in fact came, but she could move her body freely. She quickly sat up and looked over at her alarm clock.

It was 3:56 a.m.

"I have got to get laid," she said, in disbelief that she had had such a vivid sex dream—so vivid, in fact, it had seemingly made her cum.

Jessica did not sleep the rest of the night. Instead, she thought of how vivid the whole dream had been. The woman definitely reminded her of her ex, Felicia. Why she had not made that connection in the dream world, she did not know. But then again, it was a dream—they weren't supposed to make sense. The fact that she could simultaneously be tied down and be free to break the chains of such a BDSM experience. The way she stuck her head into her pussy, penetrating like an incredibly thick dick head. Her fisting.

It was all too much. She needed to get laid, to recalibrate her sense of what was normal for sex and what was just out of this world. Hell, she'd even forgotten… well, she hadn't forgotten what orgasm felt like. She could recognize the disparity in the dream. But she'd forgotten what good orgasm felt like. She'd relied on her hands and toys for too long.

At 8 a.m., she finally gave up on sleeping. She opened the door and her dog, Rascal, came barging in, jumping up on her and licking her.

"Easy, Ras," she said. "I didn't sleep well last night."

Seeming to understand her orders, Rascal sat down on all fours and looked up at her. It was hard for Jessica to feel annoyed when she saw the dog, and she smiled at it and pet it gently.

"But life's good when you're around," she said.

She headed downstairs and began cooking breakfast—eggs, bacon and a glass of milk—as she began listening to podcasts. She listened to a couple about history, and a few on various other topics. She wanted to keep her mind attuned, but distracted from the job of grading papers for the day. Such a task got extremely tedious by the time she'd seen the 15th argument over World War I that made no sense or, worse, was offensively inaccurate.

As she watched her bacon sizzle in the pan, she heard her phone buzz. She didn't think twice about it. She pulled up the phone, and saw a number she did not have saved in her phone had texted her. Intrigued, she opened the message.

"Hey Jessica! It's Stella. I'm passing through town for the weekend, wanna grab dinner?"

Jessica blushed. It had been so long since she'd seen Stella.

In fact, the last time she'd seem her was when she lost her lesbian cherry to her.

A young college sophomore at the time, Jessica had grown up in too strict a household to have seen anyone but boys. But then she met Stella out one night, and immediately became friends with her. She fell for her humor, for her low-key confidence, her smile.

But there was just one problem. Stella did not go to the same school as she did. In fact, she did not even live in the same state… or time zone, as Jessica did.

Jessica had two options—let it go, try and move on… or put two to three weeks of courtship into one night, finally get over her neurosis of being with the same sex, experience it, and then maybe, someday down the road, the two of them could meet up.

So Jessica pulled her back to her room. Stella told her everything up front—she could not stay after they banged, for she had an early flight, but she had to tell her so she wouldn't seem like an asshole. This made Jessica even more attracted to her, and the next word from either of them was "oh fuck," when Jessica began kissing Stella's stomach and groin, just above her pussy, in a tease.

The sex was great—it was her first time, not knowing what to expect meant it was that much better—but one thing always seemed to weird her out about Stella. She seemed to be holding something back. It seemed like she had even more to offer, but for whatever reason, wasn't letting it show.

She also had very odd yips. They sounded more wolf-like than human, but Jessica didn't know any better and didn't think twice about it.

But then she came, she came when she ate her out, and that was that. By 7 a.m., Stella had disappeared, as much a dream as an actual dream. Contact had not stopped. They both liked each other. But neither made the move to see the other for five years.

Until now.

When Jessica saw that—she assumed she had changed her number—she lit up. She'd waited for this day for a very long time, and she didn't want to waste anytime.

"Hey Stella! Yes, let's do that! How long are you in town for? Let's get drinks after dinner as well. :-)"

Stella wrote back immediately, and responded that she was down for that. Jessica smiled broadly. She was not the innocent, uncertain virgin anymore. She was a more experienced woman—still one who preferred polite ladies, but ladies who could turn into savages in bed—and she didn't want to beat around the bush when it came to what she wanted.

The dream had planted itself in her mind too much.

She needed to have the hottest bondage experience any woman could conceive.

 **2**

Jessica walked up to the restaurant where she was meeting Stella in her sexiest outfit she could find. Her breasts practically popped out of dress, which barely came down to cover her thighs. She had on black high heels, probably a good four inches high. If it weren't for the liberal nature of her town, one might've considered her a prostitute. She certainly would've been back home.

She walked inside where the man behind the podium looked up, at first with professional disinterest and then with barely concealed arousal.

"Uh, good evening ma'am, is there anything, I mean, how many?"

"Oh, two, but I think my woman might be here already," she said.

"Jessica?"

Jessica whirled around to see Stella sitting in the waiting area. She had on glasses with black rims… and an equally hot red dress. She came to party as if at a nightclub in Vegas.

"Wow, Jessica, how have you been?" she said, not very subtly eyeing her body up and down.

"Very well, Stella, it's good to see you," she said, walking to her.

The two of them exchanged a hug and she held her tight, scratching her back gently with her hand. She pulled back and gave Stella a look that said, "You know why I'm dressed like this." Part of her hoped that Stella would say "you know what, fuck dinner, let's just go fuck and then get dinner."

But, alas. Stella was confident, but not that confident. She was still barely 25.

"So, uhh, what are you doing now, Jessica? Think last time I saw you was, what, five years back?"

Jessica nodded, tilting her head with a smile.

"I'm a teacher," she said. "Normally, I'd be grading papers."

Now was the time to raise the verbal stakes, she thought.

"But when a gorgeous old flame comes back into my life for a night, I have to make time for that."

Stella smiled. She was slowly starting to get it. She didn't want to appear too eager up front, but Jessica could tell she was starting to figure out why she was dressed that way, and it wasn't to compete with other women, for once.

The waitress came over and then advised them to the table. Stella led the way and put her hand on the small of Jessica's back, who felt a chill going down her spine when she did so. They came to the table, laid out the napkins across their laps, and laughed at each other.

"Five years," Stella said.

"You know I still think about that night quite a bit. You were quite the catch."

Stella nodded. Jessica could see in her eye a twinge of regret—regret that she did not live in the same area as her. Who knows where they would be if they were together in the same area? Dating seriously, for sure. At least.

"I'd be lying if I said I don't," Stella said with a smile.

That made Jessica's heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter a bit. Even though she had come out for a very specific purpose—to make Stella come back for some raw, savage, bondage sex—that didn't mean she couldn't also have a lot of emotion behind it as well.

"Oh, yeah? What about it?"

Stella looked up with a smirk and then grabbed a glass of water. She was trying to collect her thoughts so she could make sure she said the right thing.

"Just how tightly we connected, you know," she said. "We only hung out that night. It wasn't more than like, what, five hours? But sometimes you just know. You just have that connection. And I definitely felt that with you. I've been with girls for weeks and not felt a connection like that."

Jessica nodded. She did know. The same was true for her with people—guys in the beginning, girls as she became comfortable being lesbian. Stella, for whatever reason, had just been someone she clicked with instantly. She smiled. The waiter had not yet even come, and the conversation was already becoming open and raw.

Then, right on cue, the waiter came up. Jessica saw her introduce himself and take drink orders, but she kept Stella in her vision the whole time. She wondered how she would react to her true intentions.

But, then again, now her true intentions had morphed a bit. Now she wanted raw, savage, meaningful sex and not just raw and savage sex.

The waiter left, and Stella turned back to Jessica. With the table barely a couple feet across, Jessica rested her hand over Stella's right hand and smiled.

"Stella, I have a confession to make," she said. "You know why I'm here. I wanted a night like the one we had a few years ago. But I didn't just want that. I wanted it to be more primal, rawer, more… exotic."

"But I realize I still like you. I still very much want to be around you. So, when we're done here, we're going to go home, and we're going to have raw and hot sex. But it's going to be so thoroughly enjoyable, even more so than before, because it's you."

Stella nodded, and she looked like she wanted to say something. Something sat on the edge of her tongue, and it didn't look like she was going to just agree. Did she have some warning? Was she going to say something beautiful? Or what?

Jessica picked up on this, and looked at Stella strangely.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"I—" Stella began speaking, but then stopped himself.

She appeared to wonder whether she was about to say anything which made sense. She then gulped and smiled.

"I've changed a bit since we last hung, Jessica, that's all," she said.

Jessica chuckled and leaned back, flicking her hair to the side.

"What's that supposed to mean? Did you get a boob job or something?"

Stella, who had gotten a glass of water, spit up her drink and began laughing. As decidedly unsexy as it would've seemed on the outside, it did seem kind of cute to Jessica.

"No, no, just… ahh, I'll tell you when we get back to my place. Or your place?"

"My place," Jessica said.

"OK, your place. I just feel weird telling you out here."

Jessica nodded, and decided not to press the issue. Conversation was going well, both of them had opened up to each other completely, and there was no reason to make Stella defensive or awkward and end the night right there.

Instead, she shifted the subject to where Stella had traveled to recently. The two of them touched on the subject for a bit, and then went to other small-talk subjects. The heavy conversation ended, and the two talked as former lovers do when the reunite for the first time in years—lots of laughs, the occasional touch, a wistful look back at the past but without diving heavily into the deeper stuff until both parties were either heavily inebriated or one party had worked up the guts. Or, in their case, had already had such a conversation.

Jessica felt so right being there. She didn't know where things would go after this night. After all, Stella had to leave the next day, at least she presumed. And she had her contract for the next several months. But once that got done… who knew? Being back around her reminded her of how good things were.

Stella felt great too. She wasn't lying when she said she hadn't connected to a woman as strongly as Jessica since she had to leave her. But she hadn't told her the entire truth yet. Of what happened a few weeks after their hookup, which made it extremely difficult to get close to a woman, especially at night. How the change—which, her parents had quietly told her, laid dormant until she reached her 20's—turned her into a savage beast at night.

How was that going to work tonight? She'd have to take a risk. If there was anyone willing to try, it was Jessica.

The waiter came by after they had finished their meal and presented the check. Stella put down her card and smiled at Jessica, who put her hand on her.

"Thank you… baby," she said.

"Of course, you came out, it's the least I could do for you coming," she said.

"It better not be the last time I come tonight," she said, sending Stella into laughter and glances around to make sure no one had heard. "Stella, who cares if other people hear? I don't know if you noticed, but every woman in this place has turned their attention to us. We are the royalty of this place."

It was true. Stella had noticed more than a few eyes shifting their attention to their table. But she could only shrug and smile.

"Ready?" she said once the waiter came back with the check.

"Always," she said as she signed the check and walked outside.

They stood up and held hands, leaving the restaurant. They got to the parking lot, where Jessica stopped at her car.

"Stella," she said.

When Stella turned around, Jessica put her hands on her cheeks and leaned in. She embraced her, and they shared their first kiss in years.

It felt amazingly emotionally powerful. Jessica had not felt like this in years, and Stella hadn't even tried in years. The moment for both of them was enough to make them want to move for the other, to be together and have the rawest and most powerful sex ever.

After a few moments, Jessica pulled back. She looked into Stella's eyes, and the two of them shared a gaze for several moments before Jessica chuckled gently.

"Wait till we get back to the house," she said.

Stella nodded with a smile.

"Follow me, I'll see you there."

She then waited until Stella got into her car and began the drive home. The emotions were powerful. And now, the sex drive to get wild and kinky were even stronger.

 **3**

The two of them arrived at the house about seven minutes later and Stella parked on the side of the street. Jessica walked into the house first, waiting in the hallway. She had to make sure everything was set up properly at her kitchen table. Tape, check. Rope, check. She was all set to go.

Stella walked in a few moments later and looked around at the entrance.

"Oh wow, nice house," she said.

She looked down and saw Jessica approaching. She had on a determined, daring smile on her face. Stella knew what was about to happen, but it didn't prevent her from feeling like a kid in first grade about to have her first kiss. She wrapped her arms around her neck and in one swift motion pressed her face against her. Tongues went down each other's throats soon, and gasps began coming out quickly. Jessica could barely form words, barely gasping out "oh, God, Stella." Stella's hands went to her ass, and when Jessica rubbed her hand down Stella's crotch, she groaned. She began pushing her toward the stairs and Jessica had to guide her.

"Kitchen, Stella, kitchen," she said.

Stella looked at her for a second of confusion, but then decided weird sex was better than no sex. She resumed groping and making out, then at one point going for her neck. Jessica crunched her neck up, it felt so good. Hopefully, she thought, hickeys disappeared before class. Otherwise, some fancy hair work was going to be needed.

They got to the kitchen and Stella pushed her onto the kitchen table. Utensils fell off and clanked on the floor, but Jessica didn't care. It sounded so much hotter, adding to the rough factor. Stella reached up and began removing her dress. Jessica smiled when she saw her body. Slender and perfect.

She reached down and pulled the straps off her dress and lowered them. Jessica stood up for a second and let the dress fall, leaving her in just her underwear, topless. Stella let out a smile, and then they resumed French kissing again. When Jessica ran her hands across her back, though, she noticed something particularly odd—she seemed hairier than a few minutes ago. Was she going crazy?

"You don't shave often, do you?" she said.

Stella pulled back, a sudden look of concern on her face.

"I didn't mean—" she said, suddenly worried that she had hit on too sensitive a spot.

"No," she said. "No, you're fine. Jessica, I need to know now, what were you planning to do?"

Jessica looked at her worried. This was not how she hoped things would go. She looked over at the countertop with the ropes and electric tape.

"I, well, I wanted you to tie me to the kitchen chair and do some filthy things to me."

Stella looked over and smiled, but then her look of concern reappeared. She gained composure, and looked at Jessica with a serious look.

"OK, Jessica, you know how I said something had changed but I didn't want to say what at the restaurant? Well, this is it. At night, I turn into a werewolf-human hybrid. I'm not a full wolf, and I'm not a full wolf. I get the best of both worlds. But when I become a wolf, I lose my human consciousness. I act on instinct alone. I haven't eaten anyone, don't worry about that. But we need to get you tied up."

Jessica's mind immediately raced to the possibilities. What the hell was going on? Werewolves were real? What did this mean for her?

"Jessica."

"OK, I, sorry, ok," she said, stammering over her words.

Stella put her hand on her arm. Jessica could see her developing a 5 o'clock shadow rapidly.

"You also need to know. When I undergo this transformation, I grow male genitals. But trust me. You'll like it. I'm still female."

Well, Jessica thought, if I was going to bring back a woman I hadn't seen in five years back to my place for bondage sex, what's just taking it to another level gonna do? What difference would it make? She acquiesced and smiled, doing her best to go along with it.

She then slipped off her underwear and let Stella tie her with electric tape—the kind that would not peel hair off in the process—and ropes. Her hands went behind her back, behind the chair, forcing her breasts forward. Her legs were spread apart and tied down at the side of the chair. All the while, thicker hair began growing on Stella, and her voice progressively got deeper and deeper. When she was done, Jessica looked into her eyes with a daring smile. She tried to force herself from the chair—she could not. She could only kick her legs slightly out to the side, and even that was by only a few inches. She was, for all intents and purposes, Stella's to play with.

"What are you going to do to me, you… uhh, sexy werewolf you," she said, laughing.

She looked down at Stella's underwear, and saw a bulge beginning to form. It was an unmistakable shape.

Then, suddenly, Stella went down on all fours and let out a loud roar, and her pants literally exploded off of her. Jessica could only see her back and ass, but she seemed to be growing, the fur growing thicker than before. Her head slanted forward, like a wolf's nostrils forming. This went on for several seconds, but one thing she did notice was the wolf kept human extremities—it had human hands and human feet, and human arms. But the rest of it seemed as wolf-like as it got.

"Stella?" she said.

Then the wolf slowly looked up at Jessica. The face was definitely that of a wolf's—she wasn't going to mistake it for Stella anytime soon. But she did see a primal urge in those eyes—a raw look that said it wanted something very badly.

And when it sat up completely and stood on its legs, Jessica realized really quickly what that thing was, and what Jessica meant when she said she'd develop man parts. Its cock was as thick as a redwood tree trunk, and long enough to easily fill up not just her pussy but her entire innerness as well.

So, she thought, I guess in a way, Stella did get enlargement. She looked up into the creature's eyes, and she noticed something she had not expected.

She was horny as hell, wetter than a just-broken dam, and wanted the monster to ravage her.

"Come fuck me, Stella. Fuck me just as you are."

 **4**

Jessica watched with eager anticipation as Stella approached slowly, her hulking frame practically casting a shadow over all of Jessica and the chair. She looked at the monster's perfect body—slender but dominant and, of course, that monstrous cock. Really, once Jessica had gotten used to the fact that Stella had a ton of fur and a differently-shaped face and a cock, it was just a woman, albeit an incredibly sexy woman.

Stella got down on all fours in front of Jessica and began sniffing around. Feeling the breath of the wolf sent Jessica into excited shakes, as she began waiting for the monster's sniffing to reach between her legs. It started at her ankles, worked up to the knees, then the thighs… then, as if aware it would be teasing her, went to her neck and licked gently. Jessica scrunched her neck, but the sensation still felt more powerful than human tongue given how much area it could cover. It then did the same for her breasts, causing Jessica to toss her head back. She instinctively tried to reach up and grab Stella's head, but the restraints had been tied too well.

Then it went to her stomach, and finally, it got down to her pussy and Jessica braced. Just the anticipation alone was getting her off.

"Oh, God, Stella, just do it. Just do your worst."

The monster sniffed for many more seconds, and then let out a mix of prideful roar with excited cry. It then licked her pussy and Jessica let out a loud cry. Stella's tongue, too, had expanded, and there wasn't an area on her pussy it couldn't hit.

"Oh, you motherfucker!" she cried out.

Again, she tried to wrap her legs around Stella, but Stella knew what she was doing. The ropes had tied her down. She was truly bonded up with the wolf.

"Fuuuu—uuck!"

The monster licked for many more seconds, and Jessica thrashed around in the chair. The chair even shuffled a few times, but by and large, she remained motionless, within the confines of the chair, only able to adjust by inches.

She thought about how, yes, maybe this was in fact worth keeping around. When Stella had first told her she was a wolf by night, it seemed ludicrous—how could she ever be with someone that was a different creature depending on the day?

But if the wolf did exactly what she needed it to, what did it matter? The wolf wasn't a real wolf—this wasn't bestiality—and she could still sense Stella's presence in the monster—and soon, in her. The wolf met her needs and wants, and that's all one could ever ask for in a relationship of any kind.

So, maybe she would follow Stella. Besides, she thought, she'd understand a lot better than any other new girlfriends who didn't have background with Stella.

The monster then hit a particularly sensitive spot within her and she arched forward, crying out in ecstasy.

"GOD!"

She couldn't take it anymore. She had to have it rougher, harder.

"I want that dick in me, so bad, so fucking bad," she said.

Stella, who was mid-lick, pulled back slowly. She then stood up on her knees and put her dick in front of Jessica. Jessica tried moving her arms, but kept forgetting about the wraps. Instead, she opened her mouth, and Stella fucked her mouth. She slid in and out, sliding, trying to be careful not to choke Jessica—but with so much girth and length, it became inevitable and it happened a couple of times.

"Mmmfuummmm," she said.

The monster seemed to enjoy this especially much, letting out high pitched howls and cries.

Finally, Jessica pulled her mouth back. She had enjoyed seeing the monster getting off, but without control of the situation, she worried she might jam too far.

"Fuck my pussy, you fucking beast," she said. "Come on, Stella, get that dick in my pussy."

Stella bent over, and Jessica braced herself for the monster to slide himself in.

Instead, much to her surprise, she picked up the entire chair and held her close. She yelled out in surprise, but loved the raw power shown. Not even the strongest woman she knew had the power to lift both her and a chair up. This was a new level of primal urge. This was hotter beyond humanely possible.

The monster then slid her down, and she saw its dick stiff and ready for entry. She breathed slowly and then her eyes went wide when the creature slid in.

"Oh, fuck fuck fuuuuck."

Stella let out a cry, and the bouncing began. Much to Jessica's surprise, she didn't feel like she was bouncing against the chair. The position of her legs and arms, along with the monster's maneuvering, meant that it was like fucking underwater with her hands and legs locked in place. She cried and moaned, and she could feel tension rising up in her pussy.

She thought about how she needed to do this more often. But only with Stella. She wondered if Stella told the truth when she said she acted purely on instinct as a wolf. It seemed doubtful—how would the wolf know how to bounce her to ensure she didn't get splinters from sliding on the chair awkwardly?

She decided, looking into her face, her cock filling every crevice and rubbing her G-spot hard, that she would follow her wherever she went.

The sex continued for a couple of minutes, and Jessica noticed something—she was getting off very fast. Faster than human dick, which couldn't even get her off, and faster than any tongue. The beast's cock filled her so much, it was impossible not to begin climaxing.

"Oh God, I'm right there, Stella," she said softly, barely able to speak.

The tension rose. Her entire body seemed to tense. She knew it was coming.

"Oh God, keep doing that, don't stop, no stop, ohhhhh."

She felt her body rising to a certain point. Conscious thought stopped. Her only focus at that moment was getting off.

And then she got to the tipping point.

"Ahh, AHHHHHHH!"

She cried as she trashed in the chair with the dick still thrashing around in her. She couldn't believe how this felt! It was, close to literally, out of this world. Her head tilted back, and much to her surprise, she broke free of the bonds, the orgasm causing her to spazz out so hard she had superhuman strength.

When she finally came to, she saw the monster going at her even harder, by now holding her instead of the chair, which had fallen from her orgasm. She felt the dick swell inside her, and knew she too was about to cum. Stella had begun letting out louder cries, and Jessica wanted to encourage her along.

"C'mon, you motherfucking monster, shoot that hot fucking cum in me."

The tip inside swelled. All it took was one more push. Jessica began bouncing her ass on the creature, now in control of her entire body.

"Cum!"

The beast exploded, and roared. Jessica let out soft cries and held on to the creature as her dick quivered inside her, shooting rope after roped of sperm into her. She smiled gleefully—even at her most primal, Jessica still had the ability to get Stella off.

"Fuck yes, you fucking thing," she said.

Eventually, the monster finished, and her body visibly relaxed and felt warm. She removed himself and let Jessica onto the floor. Jessica looked up into the eyes of the werewolf, and then noticed something curious—her body was reverting back to human.

The hair receded, the muscles became a little less visible, and the cock disappeared, replaced by a slow-forming pussy.

This went on for a few minutes on the floor, as the beast had laid down. Jessica used the opportunity to put her underwear back on and some gym clothes from the room over. When she came back, Stella was nearly back, naked on the floor. She became fully human, the fur on her arms disappearing, and looked up at Jessica.

"How… it's night and I'm human? What…"

Jessica came over and smiled, planting a kiss on her. She picked her up and helped guide her to the couch.

"You fucked me senseless, Stella, with your cock," she said laughing. "And apparently, I fucked you senseless."

Stella let out a laugh.

"I guess if I cum as a werewolf, I go back to being human?"

Jessica nodded.

"You got the beast out of you," she said. "You can go back to being fully human."

Stella smiled.

"Yeah… but I don't wanna quite go back to my own life. I think you get this better than most women would."

Jessica laughed and kissed Stella again.

"Don't worry baby, I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I don't know how it'll work with my job. I'll finish it out, but until then, not sure how it'll work. But I'll tell you this—I'm not going anywhere without you."

Stella smiled and pulled her close.

"Me either."

Jessica smiled and then laughed as she saw Ras come up to the two of them, licking Stella.

"Think the dog likes you," she said. "Like attracts like."

Stella looked into Jessica's eyes and beamed.

"I know."

####


	2. Watching the Werewolf With my Wife

**Watching the Werewolf With my Wife**

 **1**

"Yes, fuck, yes, oh, God, give it to me Tracy."

As she bounced on top of her partner's strap-on, Betsy looked down at the woman who had become her partner. She stared into her eyes, daring her to give it to her good. Actually, no—to just give it to her at all.

The words: fake. The cries: fake. All of it: fake.

Betsy loved Tracy as a partner. She had a good job, she took care of her at the house and took great care of their dog. She did everything right… except for those 20 minutes a night when clothes flew off, beds got smothered and mouth and strap-ons entered pussy.

The first couple of times it happened, Betsy ignored it. Who doesn't have a few awkward experiences sexually with someone new? You have to figure out each other's interests. But as time went by, and the sex did not improve, Betsy looked for alternatives to improve. She asked to watch couple's porn with her so that she might learn a thing or to. She told her explicitly what to do. She even considered hiring a coach, but ultimately did not do so out of shame.

And then she figured it out—it just wasn't in Tracy's personality. Tracy was a wonderful partner, but a terrible sexual experience. She did not have the psyche to dominate when the time came. She was too tender. And that carried over to the bedroom.

Still, she would try from time to time. Tonight, she decided she wasn't going to just give her a chance—she was going to throw the whole barn at her. She dressed up in the sluttiest outfit she could find for their dinner, the kind that drew heads in any setting. She tied herself to the bed, thinking that if she were literally just lying there, unable to resist, she might find some primal urge within her. When that didn't work, she broke the ropes and began aggressively going after Tracy, sucking her pussy with a ferocity like that of an animal. She moaned so loudly, she figured the people on her street five houses down would hear her.

But it didn't work. It was all a charade.

She did not accept the dare.

Tired of this game, she didn't even care about orgasming—something she had only done a couple of times with Tracy, when she had ate her out for so long it was more an inevitability than a pleasurable moment. She just wanted to get Tracy off so she could move on and figure out something else.

So she got off, and, not even bothering to put effort into sounding sexy, said, "I'm going to make you cum now." Tracy nodded. Betsy could sense she felt a degree of shame, but she didn't care. She went down on her pussy and did what she knew would work—she flicked her tongue around and used her fingers. She squirmed some, and almost on cue, her pussy began to swell. She let out a few moans, but they were quickly stifled out of shame of being heard.

Then she came, and her hips quivered. She threw a pillow over her face to stifle any moans, and after a couple of shakes, she stopped, and relaxed. Betsy swallowed, stood up, and headed over to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head.

"We can't keep going like this. I have to be satisfied on my personal needs. I can't. I just fucking can't."

Betsy then washed herself over quickly, threw some underwear on, and headed into the bed. Tracy sighed, and turned to Betsy, thinking she was about to say something, but suddenly unable to find the courage to. Too predictable, Betsy thought. How could a woman so smart, so successful at work, be so terrible? How did we even wind up together in the first place?

"Tracy, we can't keep doing this," she said, not even thinking the words.

Tracy looked at her in stunned silence for a couple of seconds, but she nodded after the words finished hitting her. She couldn't disagree.

"Tracy, we've danced around this issue for our entire relationship. And the truth is, the elephant in the room is growing so fast we can't contain her in the room. For whatever reason, you cannot please me in bed."

Tracy visibly winced, and Betsy thought she might cry. Why was she such a pussy? She had gone from feeling sympathy to anger.

"Tracy, listen, we need to have this conversation in as raw terms as possible. You cannot sexually satisfy me. I need to be sexually satisfied. All the other things you do are great, and I appreciate that. It's why I'm not just dumping you on the spot. But we need to figure this out. Because if not, I'm out."

Tracy gulped.

"Betsy, you know the kind of household I grew up in. Sex was a sin. Sex is bad. Sex is only good for producing children, and to indulge in it physically is the mark of an immoral woman. I—"

"And Tracy, I know that," she said. "But you're not in that household anymore. You're 27. You need to grow up."

"I know, I know," Tracy said sadly. "But I can't escape it out of my head. I need to find a way… maybe…"

Betsy's anger had subsided in favor of empathy again. She was curious to hear what Tracy might say here. She'd hinted at the conversation before, and she was pretty sure Tracy had picked up on the topic, but had just never addressed it. The topic of sexual shame had come up, but never in the context of a terrible sexual experience.

"Betsy, if I let you sleep with someone else, would that satisfy you?"

Betsy wasn't sure how to react. The thought had certainly crossed her mind. Not to cheat—she, too, had been raised in an environment full of harsh judgment to ever consider cheating. But sleeping with other people? She practically had to given how bad her sex life was. But said so explicitly, so raw… this must've been how Tracy felt when she began this conversation.

"I, uhh, umm, I mean…"

"I know the answer is yes," Tracy said, struggling to say the words. "Because if it was no, you would've denied it explicitly as soon as I asked the question. Betsy, it's OK. I know I need to do this."

Betsy nodded. Tracy had a way of seeing through to the truth. She just didn't always have the courage to confront it, like a spy who can see an army approaching and know its tactics but not want to engage.

"I guess in that light, maybe if I got just one other person, it could last me some time. A woman who is known for giving a great deal of sexual pleasure, or something. Tracy, I just want you to know I still love you. But just like how you can really enjoy a job but not get fulfillment from it and need to do charity work, well, it's kind of like that here."

Tracy again nodded.

"I do, however, have one request, and promise not to judge me?"

Betsy nodded.

"I've thought about you with other girls before, and, well… it's kind of arousing to me."

Betsy looked at her in confusion. Tracy had a thing for that? She never would've guessed that if they'd dated a thousand years.

"Yeah, I know, it's weird, isn't it? But I know I'm not good in bed. I know I've never gotten you off—"

"You did a couple times."

"For real?"

Betsy saw genuine excitement emerge from Tracy's face. She felt a strong urge to kiss her and say call off the whole thing.

"Yeah. When you ate me out, you did a hell of a job."

"Wow, nice. But yeah, I don't know. I see myself as this dweeby smart girl who doesn't do anything well physically. Seeing you get off, it's… I don't know. Call it weird, but since I'm allowing it, it's like I'm letting you get off through me, in a very weird way. I don't know, Betsy, I told you it's weird."

Betsy nodded. She understood what Tracy meant, though she didn't think it was an accurate way of looking at things.

"I guess what I'm saying is, it could be mutually beneficial for us if I watch you fuck a girl who can actually do something. You get sexual release, I get aroused and maybe I can learn a thing or two from watching. I don't know. How do you feel? Would it be OK with you?"

Betsy smiled and shook her head. Tracy, Tracy, Tracy. Both overly considerate and way too submissive. Quite the conundrum.

"I suppose so," she said. "We'd have to make sure the woman's OK with it. But yeah, I mean, we won't really know if it'll work until we actually try it. But, with that said, I need sexual pleasure, to put it bluntly. I can't say if when I get in there if I'll feel self-conscious when we get down to it. But I'm willing to try."

Tracy nodded.

"Thank you, Betsy," she said.

That felt fucking weird. She was the one who made the request, and she was saying thank you? Again, the damn submissive shit.

"Sure," Betsy said, unable to say anything else.

"Who do you want get with? I won't care who it is."

Betsy thought of the gals in her life that were interested in her. They numbered way too high. She was a damn attractive brunette with nice tits. To any lesbian, she was at least physically attractive.

So she narrowed it down to girls who were interested in her who she could see dating. But then she figured it'd be weird to give someone the expectation of something further when she was still committed emotionally to Tracy… though she wasn't sure of that. But she was surer of that then of her sexual commitment to Tracy.

So she again narrowed it down to girls who liked her, whom she appreciated, but were only looking for something short-term. Immediately, one woman came to mind.

Angela.

Angela, the coworker of Tracy's. She was stupidly confident, incredibly hot, amazing funny… and never at any of their evening parties. Betsy always ran into her at the happy hours, but once happy hour turned into evening drinks, she always seemed to disappear. She was simultaneously mysterious and rawly open. She'd talk about the threesome she'd had the weekend before and then not give any explanation for her disappearance. When asked about relationships, she'd laugh, giving a clear answer. But when asked what she did want, she shrugged and said, "Whatever comes my way."

"Angela," she finally said.

Tracy nodded, seeming to have expected her to say that.

"I'll let her know tomorrow," she said, and she rolled over to sleep.

Betsy found that statement surprising. How could Tracy be that assertive in presenting her woman to Angela? She must really want the experience to happen.

She thought about how such a moment would go. Would she just walk in naked to Angela and fuck her? Would it be intimate? Would it be rawer? Would they kiss? How would Tracy decide what was hot to her and what was crossing the line?

So many questions ran through her mind, more than she had hoped for. She just wanted a good fuck, and she didn't want to complicate anything emotionally between her and Tracy.

So she decided that's what she'd do. When she saw Angela with Tracy, she would explain it as is. She just wanted good sexual experience, and nothing more. She'd end it if Angela tried to make it more.

It seemed so simple, she didn't see how problems could arise. But it also got a hell of a lot more complex as she thought about it.

 **2**

The next day dragged on slowly and unproductively for Betsy. Around 10 a.m., Tracy had texted her telling her to meet her and Angela for drinks at 4:30 p.m. It was a slow work day, she said, and it ensured that they'd get to meet up and have fun before evening, as Angela had requested.

Betsy agreed to it, but she did nothing for the day. Instead of doing house-cleaning and writing her next novel, she simply sat around the house, overcomplicating the simple and oversimplifying the complicated. Her mind ran enough mental laps to beat out college seniors, and she felt stressed by 3 p.m. She just wanted to get to the damn bar, to make it happen, be over it and move on.

But just before she left the house, she looked in the mirror and had an especially critical thought. As she made sure she was properly dressed—white light jacket, white lingerie and a healthy dose of makeup—she realized that half the reason she could rarely get off with Tracy was because she was not mentally clear. Her mind was cluttered and she couldn't focus on any one thing. If she wanted to enjoy Angela, she needed to mentally accept the experience and not worry about how it went. Otherwise, it was just cheating for cheating's sake, nothing more.

Well, Tracy might enjoy it, but that would just make it even weirder.

"Relax," she told herself. "Enjoy it. Clear your mind when you get into it. You can deal with all of the other shit on the car ride home or the next day. But for today, we're only going to focus on what Angela can bring. Deal?"

She smiled at herself and felt a lot more comfortable.

She got in the car and headed over to the bar. For the first few minutes of the drive, it seemed like the pep talk hadn't done much good. She still stressed out over basic thoughts and wondered if she was doing the right thing.

But, strangely, the closer she got to the bar, the better she felt about herself. She felt more at unease, found herself thinking less and less and found herself singing along to the music. By the time she actually got to the bar, she wasn't even thinking. She was just purely living in the moment.

She walked inside and found Angela and Tracy sitting in a corner. They both were smiling, both laughing, both appearing to have a good time. If Tracy felt uncomfortable with what was about to happen, she certainly wasn't going to show it in any way. Betsy approached with a smile and a confident walk, and Tracy waved to her. Angela nodded with her confident smile. Tracy got up and kissed her, and Betsy gave Angela a hug—nothing out of the ordinary. Betsy waited for one of them to begin talking, to talk about how the night would go. But no one did. It weirded Betsy out for a second, but as soon as they started talking about Angela's previous exploits, it somehow felt right for Betsy. Perhaps because it felt so natural.

The conversation then shifted into other various topics. To someone watching from the outside, just observing the three of them talking, nothing would've seemed out of the ordinary. It would've seemed like three friends chatting at a bar. And, strangely, to the three people involved, it seemed like a normal conversation most of the night too. Betsy and Tracy both forgot a couple of times themselves that they were about to engage in some weird experiment with Angela.

Angela, however, had planned it exactly as such. It was not the first time that she had experienced such a fetish. She had been on this rodeo more than a few times, and she found if she openly acknowledged the situation too early, it gave too much time for awkwardness to creep up and the experience called off, or worse. Better to make everyone comfortable and let them think this was natural and normal, and then at the end, spring it. By then, it was too late for people to back out of things. And even from a polite perspective, this just made more sense anyways—it wasn't like she was trapping them, she was just making the experience better.

After about an hour and a half of conversation, Angela turned to both Betsy and Tracy, who had traded a story about the dog.

"You girls wanna head back to the house? Go someplace quieter and easier to relax."

Again, Angela did not acknowledge what was about to happen. If Betsy pressed the issue, of course she would mention it. She had no sense of shame like Tracy. But it was all part of the game—it was not because she was too scared to mention it.

"Let's do it," Betsy said with a smirk.

"Sounds good," Tracy said, more confident in the decision than Angela had expected.

So the three of them all headed to Angela's house, each in their own cars. Angela and Betsy got there first, and Betsy walked into the house to see Angela changing from her work clothes into a tank top. She blushed when she saw the definition on Angela's back. Angela, perhaps sensing her, turned around and smiled.

"You like what you see?"

Betsy nodded, figuring there was no point in hiding the truth.

"Well, it gets better. Wait until the sun goes down."

Betsy's eyes scrunched in confusion, but Angela did not acknowledge the gesture. She knew plenty what it meant, though.

"Listen, Angela, I—"

Angela held up her hand with a reassuring smile and then put her hand on her shoulder.

"Betsy, don't worry about a thing tonight. OK? If anything ever becomes too awkward or too weird, you just say stop. And Tracy has that same right. The whole point of tonight is to have fun and to get something you haven't had before."

Her smile then curled upward even higher.

"Besides, I'd be lying if I said I expect you to back out at some point once you see how good this gets."

Betsy laughed. From most girls, that would've been such a cocky statement that she would've immediately dismissed them. But Angela just had that aura.

"When you say 'let's have some real fun' that'll be code for us to head into the room. You and Tracy will go first, and you'll strip down to your underwear. After about two minutes, I'll come in and we'll fuck. Does that work?"

Betsy nodded, and she heard Tracy's car park.

"In the meantime, let's have some wine."

Tracy walked through the door a few moments later, and Betsy smiled and kissed her. Tracy put her coat up, and the three of them sat around the table sharing stories of work. They became a lot more honest and raw—Angela and Tracy both hated their bosses with fiery passions—now that they weren't at a bar that sat right next to their workplace. Betsy tossed back two glasses of wine, and decided after one more, she'd be ready to go.

She poured herself a full glass of wine—well above where most people stop pouring—and drank quickly. Tracy looked over at her wife and gave a slight chuckle. For the first time, Betsy noticed nervousness.

"You sure seem like the drunk here," she said.

Betsy smirked and turned to Angela.

"Let's have some real fun," she said.

 **3**

Angela nodded at Betsy, who stood up and tilted her head at Tracy to follow her. The two of them headed into Angela's room, and Betsy removed her shirt, leaving her in her pants and top. She turned to Tracy.

"You know it's not too late to turn away if you want, but—"

Tracy held a hand up as she sat on the couch.

"I want this to happen. I really do. It'll be good for us."

Betsy nodded, and then took her pants off. She sat on the edge of the bed as she looked over at Tracy. Her expression gave away nothing. Betsy turned her attention to the door, where she heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and Angela stood there in just her underwear. Betsy had to smile at what she saw. Her breasts were perfect, her body slender and her eyes piercing. Her pants also seemed to have a slight bulge, but Betsy didn't think much of it.

Angela stood for a moment, proud, as if displaying her body to a crowd—which she was. She looked into Betsy's eyes, who seemed willing and whose thoughts had disappeared. She glanced over at Tracy, who watched both of them. Angela turned back to Betsy and immediately went to kiss… her neck.

That answered Betsy's first question. She was not going to make this an intimate session. She was going to physically treat her well, but there was no emotional attachment in this experience. That put her at ease to a great degree.

She kissed and sucked on her neck for many seconds, causing her to scrunch her neck up in pleasure. She let out soft moans, more than any Tracy could've produced. She didn't find herself thinking about Tracy, though—she was simply thinking about how damn good this experience felt. Tracy, for her part, watched with great interest, not yet aroused, but not disturbed. It was like a scientist watching two rats beginning courtship.

Her hands went to her back, where they rubbed around. She then took one of her hands and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the side. Once the bra was completely removed, she went down to her breasts. She sucked on one breast and used her free hand to caress the other, and then she would switch breasts. She did this for several seconds, and Betsy tossed her head back, still moaning. Tracy had never done such a thing, and that's when she had her first thought since she began—she hoped Tracy was truly paying attention, and not just getting off because of some weird fetish.

"Oh, God, yes, Angela, do it just like that," she said, as if trying to hammer home the point to Tracy.

Angela continued sucking and licking her tits for many more seconds, driving her body crazy. She then worked her way down her stomach, just over her groin, and… she went down to her thighs, which she caressed and kissed some more. She then took her hand and pressed it on the outside of her underwear, but she did not actually insert her hand or remove her underwear at that moment.

Damn, she's good, she thought.

Then, after she had hit both thighs with kisses, she reached down and removed her underwear. She lowered her head, and Betsy shivered with anticipation. She was so wet, she could've slid anything in there and the lubrication would've been perfect. She closed her eyes, and… then laughed when she began working her way back up her stomach to her breasts. She was such a fucking tease!

Not that she minded. Her going back at her breasts felt as fantastic as it did the first time, arguably better, and she watched as she worked back up to the neck, then back down. She then found himself hovering over her pussy, and she wanted her down there.

"God, Angela, fucking ravage this pussy, fucking do it."

Angela blew soft air on her, and she let out a soft cry and tremble. This anticipation was too much. It was better than Tracy actually fucking her!

Unable to wait, Betsy actually grabbed Angela's head and smashed it into her pussy. But this was not an act of desperation or need—it was an act of pleasure, of such a strong desire to fulfill a want that she couldn't handle it. She knew, unlike Tracy, that it wasn't an issue of dominance with Angela—if anything, Angela showed her dominance precisely by not eating her out for the first several moments.

But once her head was down there, it didn't waste any time licking and sucking on it. Betsy squirmed and tightened her legs around Angela's fucking head. She moaned and found herself tossing, at times bringing Tracy into her view. Tracy still watched with an intense gaze, but she also noticed a smile creeping on her face. You better fucking like this, she thought. You better fucking learn a thing or two from this. I'm not letting this be a one-time occasion. It's just up to you if I have to go back to Angela or not.

Angela then cupped her ass as she continued eating, doing so with the enthusiasm of a newly-hired porn star. This was what she was looking for—someone who loved that she eating pussy and fucking owned it. Someone who didn't have sexual shame. Someone who liked what they did and didn't hide behind excuses or beliefs or a childhood or anything like that.

After several moments, she found herself near an experience she had not had in a long time. Climax.

She cried out, and yelled "oh God, I'm right there, right there." Her entire body tensed, and she knew she would not last much longer.

"Oh fuck, here it comes, I'm cumming, Goddamn, ahhhhhhhh!"

Her entire body released with warmth and it felt like her pussy was exploding. Angela continued to eat her out, adding to the heightened pleasure as she shook and cried. Thoughts escaped her mind, replaced only by a sense of extreme pleasure. She couldn't believe it! Even her previous orgasms weren't this good.

Finally, after several seconds, with Angela still munching on her, she pushed her away.

"Ohhhh, you fucking monster," she said.

Angela chuckled at that, a fact that Betsy found a bit strange but one she didn't reflect on for long. After all, her pussy throbbed with the feeling of the world's greatest tongue.

Then, still standing up, Angela removed her underwear. It took a second for Betsy to notice, but when she did, she saw something unexpected—a cock.

"What the…"

"It's part of the joy I can bring. I am futa. Arouse me, and I fuck like a man—literally."

Confusion surrounded Betsy's brain for a second. But then she realized the potential. She could give the physical pleasure of a man with the intimacy she wanted from her women.

"I want that fucking dick in me, give it to me."

She didn't even care if Tracy felt weird. She did sneak a glance at her, and noticed she was smiling. Good, she thought. She might really be learning a thing or two.

Angela smiled, and then removed her underwear. The wrapping on the package suggested a nice prize, and she did not disappoint. Her cock was thick, it was long, and it looked like Angela knew how to work it exactly as it should be. She certainly had more confidence than Tracy would, that was for sure.

She came up, straddling over her, and Betsy spit on her hand and rubbed her dick. She stroked vigorously, and eagerly looked forward to the moment. Then, she slid inside, and it seemed to fill every part of her.

"Oh God, yes!" she cried out.

Then she noticed something strange. Angela's face appeared to slowly be changing. The stroking and pounding still remained, but the body had begun morphing. Her hair grew longer. Her teeth grew sharper. And her cock grew longer and harder, making it seem like she might expand in such a way as to explode Betsy.

But then the changes became too much to ignore. It was clear what Angela was, and why she could not go out at night as she said.

She was actually a werewolf.

"Holy fuck…" Tracy said.

The wolf did not turn to her. Instead, now fully transformed, it peered into Betsy's eyes, as if saying "You better still want this." Throughout, it had not stopped thrusting, and thus, Betsy had no qualms with it fucking her still because of how good it felt. The beast growled, and Betsy smiled as the physical pleasure overwhelmed.

"Don't stop until you've come, you fucking monster."

As if accepting the command, the monster began jackhammering away with a fury. It felt so good, it almost began to hurt—as if she were having too much of a good thing. Her vision began to blur and go white, and her sense of hearing was disappearing. What was not fading was her sense of touch, and the feelings running through her body, which were indescribable. She looked into the beast's eyes, which focused on one thing—her bouncing tits.

"Fuck yes, fucking Angela, oh, God, you fucking beast."

Angela continued furiously pounding. Betsy wondered if she might want to switch positions, but the woman did not want to. She was in total control, and left no doubt as to who was in charge.

And that, Betsy realized somehow through the rush of dopamine in her body, was what Tracy was missing, and she hoped she could pick up on. She couldn't say out loud, "Tracy, see how this monster takes total control." But it was clear to anyone with any sexual experience who was in charge here, and even though Betsy did not have any input into the experience, that was what made it so fucking hot. It wasn't necessarily something that she wanted every time she fucked, but just once in a while, she hoped Tracy, having seen this, would just take total control of the situation.

"Ohhhhh," she said as the beast reached peak thrusting speed.

Then, suddenly, the thrusts became more forceful, but slower. She looked into Angela's face, which showed twitching, seeming anticipation… a face that said, "I'm right there."

She knew she had to encourage this creature along.

"Cum in me, you fucking thing," she said. "Cum, Angela, cum."

The wolf's dick swelled in her, the cum slowly rising, but surely, and reaching the tip within a few seconds. The monster had begun letting out howls, and she smiled.

"Fucking blow your load into me."

And then the monster let out the loudest roar she had ever heard, and she felt her pussy fill with warm seed. She smiled and scratched the beast's chest as she came. The monster quivered, still roaring, as Betsy said "oh yes, oh yes, right here, baby."

After a few moments, the monster stopped, and rested just inches above Betsy. She then removed himself, and laid on the side of the bed. She began slowly changing back into Angela, while Betsy laid perfectly still on the front of the bed.

"Holy fucking shit," she said.

Finally, after several moments, she sat up, her hair as frazzled as could be. She looked over at Tracy, who had a facial expression that suggested understanding. She looked over at Angela, who had returned back to human except for some patches of fur, and whose cock was rapidly disappearing, replaced by a normal female pussy.

"Goddamn," she said.

She then went over to her clothes and put them on.

"You cool?" Angela said to Tracy.

Betsy did not turn around, but listened intently.

"Yeah, I have to be honest, that was hot to watch," she said. "You might've taught me a few things."

Angela chuckled.

"Years of experience, woman. Years of experience."

Betsy smiled. Tracy didn't have to learn to fuck as a werewolf. She just had to learn to fuck like a werewolf.

 **4**

Betsy and Tracy drove home separately, Betsy leaving the house first. She did not feel guilty about what she had done—in fact, she felt good. Tracy not only had no qualms with it, she supported it. The only question became, would she learn anything from it? Or would she go back to her half-assed ways of fucking?

Betsy got to the house only a couple of minutes before Tracy did, and headed up to the room to get ready for bed. She'd had a day she could've never predicted—sleeping with a werewolf, with her partner's permission—and just wanted to go to bed. Tracy walked in, and she could hear her heading to the kitchen.

For several minutes, however, she did not come back up to the room. She wondered if she had misread her, or if she had lied about being OK. After all, it wasn't like she asked for permission to go to a dinner with a girl friend—she asked to fuck another dude.

She headed downstairs in a nightgown, and found Tracy at the kitchen table, intently thinking.

"Tracy, you OK?"

She looked up and saw her standing with a concerned look. She stood up and walked over to her slowly.

"Betsy…"

Then, without warning, she smothered her with a kiss. She jammed her against the wall, and the making out picked up frantically.

Who is this woman? Betsy thought.

Then she thought, I like her like this. That shit paid off.

The clothes got torn off quickly, and Tracy carried her to the bedroom. Betsy smiled and laughed as Tracy threw her on the bed and shut the door behind her.

###


	3. Submissive to the Wolf

**Submissive to the Wolf**

 **1**

In the small town, she was simply known as "the woman."

She had a name. Esmerelda. But if you asked the townspeople what her last name was, you'd simply get a look and a shrug. No one really felt like asking Esmerelda her last name, either. One, because no one had a need for it, and two, because she would just shrug and say "why do you have a need for it?"

She had drive. If she wanted something, she got it. No one had ever seen her fail.

She was, in other words, a mystery lying in plain sight. The only thing people knew about her—besides her name—was her preference. It wasn't men. It was women.

And to the women in the town, she was unlike anyone they had seen. Most had slept with her, but that had not gotten them any closer to her. All they knew that the others did not was what the inside of her house would look like, and all they talked about was how, besides how huge it was, was how it seemed bigger than most. They also noticed a few weird scratches, like a dog might have gotten loose and they hadn't repaired it yet, but no one could ever discern fact or fiction.

Esmerelda knew exactly what she was doing, and she got what she wanted. But no one ever saw her after sunset, either. The women she slept with would give dirty looks if asked about her after that time—after all, what woman would want to openly talk about her sexual experience with the most powerful woman in town and ruin a possible future relationship?

Esmerelda was, for all intents and purposes, the most mysterious and dominant female of all.

Tina pulled into the driveway of her cousin, Priscilla, and parked with a smile. She saw Priscilla walking out of the front door, then break into a run to the car. Tina opened the door with a laugh, and the two cousins embraced each other tightly.

"How have you been?!" Priscilla said. "God, Tina, how long has it been? Like six years?"

Tina nodded with a chuckle.

"Too long, however you slice it," she said. "Anyways, Priscilla, thank you for letting me crash here. You know how things have been for me with Joseph."

"Of course," Priscilla said. "I'm sorry to hear of what she did."

Tina's smile slowly began fading, but she was determined to exude positivity on this trip. Her partner running off with another woman a month before the wedding, that was not something she came to Idaho for. She had come here to escape the noise of the world, to relax in the small town, and have some fun. And who better to do it than with her childhood friend and family member, Priscilla?

"We won't worry about that," Tina said. "Well, I'm sure we will at some point, but tonight, I just want to go out with you, see the small town in all its glory, and have a good time."

Priscilla laughed. Tina had no idea what small town life was like living in downtown Los Angeles. She might have grown up in it, but they weren't 18. They were 33 now. That time might as well have been a previous lifetime.

"Well, whatever you say Tina," Priscilla said.

Priscilla then helped Tina bring her bags into the house. She led Tina up to her room, a small cabin room.

"Still larger than my apartment in LA," she said.

Priscilla chuckled, more appreciative than ever of her small town in Idaho. She called for her dog, Sparky, who came running up to the two of them in the room and jumped on Priscilla. Tina bent down, and the two of them took turns spoiling Sparky.

"So, Priscilla, what's on the docket for tonight?"

Priscilla turned to her with a look that said, "What are you expecting?"

"Well, there's a local watering hole that has happy hour from about now until 6 p.m. And it's about 3:12 p.m. so if you want to drink heavily to start your trip, we could certainly do that today. Otherwise, I figured we could just go driving around, maybe go to a nearby park—I have a full-time pass for all of the things. Really, it's up to you what you want to do."

Tina thought about it. She really didn't want to seem like the girl who drank her sorrows away. She didn't want to be the girl crying off a breakup, drinking an entire bottle of wine in one sitting. But… damnit, that's what she wanted to do.

"I can't lie, Priscilla, you know how things have been," she said.

Priscilla immediately showed sympathy. She knew even if Tina tried to hide her sorrow, it was still there.

"Let's go have some drinks at this place and then afterwards, we can have dinner, let it sober us up, and then we can go rabble rousing at these parks."

Priscilla smiled.

"Sounds like a plan. Sparky, c'mon!"

She led the dog out the door and down the stairs. Tina turned to the photos in the room. One of them showed Priscilla with her husband, Lucas, who was out of town on business… and probably would've gone out of town anyways to let the two of them have their girls weekend. It was the kind of partner that Tina thought she had…

"Priscilla!"

She walked out the room as Priscilla came back in as the dog ran around the backyard.

"What is it?"

Tina wanted to ask about her relationship. How did they make it work? What had she missed that Priscilla had not in Lucas? Why did she fucking run off?

But that would be too much to put on Priscilla's shoulders for the first night of her visit.

"Uhh, what's this watering hole like?"

Priscilla smiled. She herself appeared to want to say something, but out of respect for Tina, did not.

"It's a quiet little hole. Not loud music. Some couches. Kind of a lounge more than a bar, really. It's the kind of place two girls can catch up on, you know."

Tina smirked.

"Any cute ladies?"

Priscilla laughed, not expecting that to come out of Tina.

"Well, there's this one girl everyone talks about. It's insane. Even the married women want her! She's always out, she's always polite, but no one knows much about her."

Tina laughed. That was called the girl sitting next to her on the metro in Los Angeles.

"What is she, like some hooded figure? Miss Ichabod Crane?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Priscilla said, not laughing. "But yeah, if you run into her, and she takes a liking to you, you might as well not do anything else. You'll fall for her. All of my girlfriends here have."

"Have you?"

Priscilla smirked. It was intentionally designed to create drama where there was.

"No. I'm happy with Lucas, and I've been that way since we moved here. She's charming, she's cool, and if I were single, probably, just for the experience. But she's not perfect. She hasn't slept with every woman in town."

"Just most of them."

Priscilla shrugged, as if saying, "Pretty much."

 **2**

The bar was exactly as Priscilla had described it. Immediately to the right of the entrance, some normal tables were set up. Then a long bar stretched out, and then beyond that, a series of couches for people to crash on and settle into. There were also chairs on the front patio for people to hang out at, but it was too cold for anyone to go there.

The two girls walked in and were able to order drinks without any trouble. Both of them ordered lime and rum, a favorite of theirs from their college days. They decided to lay out on the couch, and Tina leaned back far into her chair and let out a long sigh. Priscilla looked at her, patted her knee twice, and then leaned back with her, waiting for Tina to speak.

"Thanks again for letting me come here, I really appreciate it. Life is kinda crazy, as you can imagine."

"I can only," Priscilla said. "I sure can't imagine the whole thing with, you know."

"Priscilla, it's OK, you can say it."

Priscilla nodded.

"I'm kind of swinging back and forth here. I don't know if I just want to get really drunk tonight and make bad choices, or if I should stay in control of myself, be sober, and just let myself gradually get over it. You know? Like I never want to be that girl who just does shots on a bar top and acts like a whore… but, honestly, I feel like I need that. Not that I particularly want it, but I just need it. And maybe when I was 22, I would've followed that course without any thought, but now, I feel like I need to be more careful, you know?"

Priscilla nodded, her eyes on Tina the whole time.

"I completely understand, Tina, I do. Look, as cliché as it is, I only say this because I don't know what else to say, I'd just say do what you WANT. Not what you think you need, especially over something this minor. Unless you drive drunk, any decision you make tonight won't affect you in 30 days. So I wouldn't worry about what you think you need to do. Do what you want to do, because the more things you just do, the more you'll realize what it is you need to do."

Tina looked at her cousin in awed admiration. The advice seemed to click so perfectly, settle her so much, she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it herself. And on top of that, Priscilla never seemed like the deep type. The friendly type, the shirt-off-her-back-for-you type, absolutely. But the intellectually deep type? No way.

"Thank you, Priscilla, that's so smart."

She held out her glass for a cheers and then hugged her after they had a sip.

"Let's limit ourselves to two glasses then. Afterwards, we'll decide what we want to do. That seems like… it seems like what I want to do."

Priscilla smiled broadly, and they clinked glasses again.

The bartender was the first one to notice her. Esmerelda walked in with her usual half-smile, the kind that indicated general pleasantness, but one that didn't want to give away too much. When the bartender looked up at her—the woman she had gone home with herself one night after a shift, something which had never happened before—she blushed and quickly prepared her favorite.

"Esmerelda, how are you this evening?" she said.

"Very well, Tiffany," she said.

That was something else about her. She always managed to say every person's name in a way that made them feel extraordinarily special.

"Well, that's lovely to hear. I'll have your favorite ready in just a second."

"Of course," she said with a disarming smile.

She did not say anything else as the bartender made her drink. She then set it down in front of her. She threw a $20 out, indicated her to keep the change, raised her glass in honor, and then drank without a word. She did not say anything for many moments, and eventually, the bartender got the picture, moving down the row. She never did quite stay out of range of Esmerelda, however.

Esmerelda looked around the bar. She saw many of the locals she knew. No one approached her, but everyone nodded at her, and she nodded back. She checked her watch, and saw she had about an hour and a half until sunset. Then, off on the couches, she saw someone she did not recognize.

She recognized the first girl. Priscilla, her name was. She was a nice girl. She had tried to charm her, but she said she was married. As a lady never takes a taken lady, she apologized, stepped back, and wished her well with a polite smile. But the other girl, she did not recognize.

She was sure she knew everyone in the town, if not by name, then at least by face. And it wasn't like the town got visitors very much.

Who was she?

Tina then looked at her and Priscilla's glasses and saw they were empty. She was feeling the effects of the first drink, but she did not want the festivities to end so soon.

"Round two?"

Priscilla nodded.

"You wanna get it?"

Priscilla was about to nod yes when she saw Esmerelda looking at the two of them over her shoulder. She thought about whether she should be sending her just-broken up cousin over to a woman she knew would charm Tina into bed. But then she thought back on her own advice—you had to do things to know what you wanted. Maybe Tina would turn out to not want Esmerelda. She was a woman, not a college girl. If she did not want Esmerelda, she could say no.

"I gotta make a quick text, do you mind getting it?" she said.

"No, not at all," Tina said, and she headed over.

Priscilla watched as Tina headed over to the bar. Sure enough, Esmerelda's eyes fell on her as she made her way over.

Tina stood beside a chair about two chairs over from Esmerelda and three chairs to the closest person. Though she saw her sitting by herself, she didn't even think twice about the woman. To her, it was just someone waiting on a coworker or a date. She motioned for the bartender, who quickly came over with a chance to be closer to Esmerelda.

"Hey! What can I get you?"

"Hey, just two of the same of what we had."

"You got it!"

Tina noticed the bartender stealing a glance at the woman to her left a couple of times. She looked over, and the woman had a disarming smile. She smiled back, but then looked back down. She was not interested, now that the moment had come, to engage with a woman.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Tina looked up at the woman, who had shifted posture, leaning back. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm visiting my friend Priscilla."

"Ahh, Priscilla. She's a great woman. She is well-liked in this town. I can see you know how to make good company."

Tina smiled and blushed slightly. She did feel a slight gravitational pull to the woman's charm.

"Yeah, well, she's my cousin. We grew up together. She's really cool."

"Oh, no doubt," she said, smiling fully for the first time. "My name is Esmerelda, apologies for not giving that out at first."

"Tina," she said, and she accepted her offer for a handshake.

"Tina, what a beautiful name. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Same," she said, chuckling.

The bartender then returned with the drinks. Tina looked back at Priscilla, who quickly looked down at her phone when Tina looked back at her friend.

"Listen, I've gotta get back to my friend, and I—"

"I know you do, Tina," she said. "Don't worry, I'll be here for the next 90 minutes if you wish to chat further."

Tina nodded, smiled, said "nice to meet you," and then walked back to Priscilla. The whole time, however, she wanted to turn around, see this woman again, this mysterious person. When she did sit down, she unconsciously positioned her body to face away from Priscilla, as if so she could stand up at any moment.

"So, oh! That was the Esmerelda you were speaking about earlier?"

Priscilla grinned broadly.

"She's quite the lady, isn't she?"

Tina turned back. Esmerelda had turned her attention to something else, but she was also certain she was in her peripheral vision.

"She's… well, yeah, she's something else."

"Are you attracted to her?"

Tina blushed. Priscilla smiled. No words were needed to speak the truth.

"Do you want to go and sit next to her?"

Tina shrugged and nodded.

"C'mon, let's go."

 **3**

Just as Esmerelda had predicted, Priscilla and Tina came up to her.

"Well, we're here," Tina said as she and Priscilla grabbed seats and sat by Esmerelda.

Esmerelda gave her warm smile and welcome them.

"And how are you liking the humble abode here in Idaho?"

"Well, we haven't seen too much of it yet, to be honest. I just got here. This is the first spot I've seen so far, but I like what I see so far."

"So do I, Tina," she said.

Tina giggled. Priscilla smirked. She had seen this game too many times before to not predict accurately how it would end.

"I think you'll find lots here to enjoy, you know. There are many national parks nearby, and there are plenty of places to ski. Even if that's not your thing, just walking around and exploring is quite the experience as well."

"No doubt, no doubt."

"Where do you come from, Tina?"

"Los Angeles."

"Ahh. I've been there before."

Priscilla looked at her stunned. That was seemingly more information than she had ever given out before.

"Yeah? You like it?"

Esmerelda half-smiled.

"It wasn't too bad. I enjoyed my time there, but this is my home. And you know what they say about home."

"You always come back to it."

Esmerelda held up her glass, confirming Tina's answer.

"What were you doing in LA?"

Esmerelda smirked. Priscilla watched with great interest to see what she might say. She had already learned for the first time that she had been to Los Angeles. What else would she give away?

"Oh, well, you know, the same reasons anyone goes to Los Angeles. Business, pleasure, fun, all of that."

"Well, sure," Tina said. "But you seem like a pretty special girl, Esmerelda. Surely there were things you did there that most people don't."

Priscilla looked at them impressed. Tina had given the woman something she wanted—confirmation that she was into her. But she wanted a little bit more in return, and she wasn't afraid to ask for it. Most people, for whatever reason—perceived fear, or whatever—would never have asked such a thing.

"You are good, Tina," she said, smirking.

She held the glass up to her mouth and took a sip, creating a long lull. Priscilla wondered if this was her way of deflecting the question, but to her surprise, she answered the question directly.

"I was negotiating with buyers of my company at the time. They wanted the company based in California, but I wanted to remain in the quiet part of the country, so we decided instead of having them invest in me, they would purchase it outright."

"Wow, that's cool," Tina said, perhaps aware she had gotten more out of Esmerelda in just a few minutes of conversation than most people in their many years in the city had.

"Thank you, Tina," she said. "Tell me about your experiences in Los Angeles."

Much to Priscilla's surprise, Tina opened fully. She wondered if maybe this was a self-sabotaging strategy—make her appear too crazy for a woman of Esmerelda's stoicism to want to invest in. But as time went by, Priscilla realized Esmerelda actually had a great deal of empathy skill. She put her arm on her a few times, comforting her, and Tina did not resist. Though Tina was not the model of broken-down girl, she definitely opened up more than Priscilla ever expected.

"Thanks for hearing me out," Tina said after the 10-minute synopsis of her relationship problems. "I'm sure I probably sound like some crazy girl who's going to make stupid mistakes."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Esmerelda said calmly. "We've all had moments like that. We do what we need to in order to cope."

Does that include you, thought Tina.

"Listen, I have to be back at my house in about 20 minutes, but I am enjoying this conversation thoroughly. Would the two of you like to continue this at my house?"

Priscilla smirked. Esmerelda was no fool. She wasn't inviting the both of them because she wanted to sleep with both of them—she would not pursue a target who said no already. She also wasn't making a mistake. She knew that Tina would be more comfortable if she came with Priscilla, who would eventually leave at some point.

"Yeah, why not?" Tina asked innocently.

"Esmerelda, would you give me and my friend a quick second?" Priscilla said.

"Of course," she said. "I'll pay our tabs while you do."

Priscilla grabbed Tina's arm and led her back to the couches where they had sat many minutes before. Priscilla smiled at Tina.

"She's good, isn't she?"

"Oh, she's fucking hot. Priscilla!"

Priscilla laughed.

"I just want to make sure this is really what you want."

"It is," Tina said. "Worst case, I ask to leave, and she lets me. She's not the kind of girl who is going to ruin her reputation here. I can tell."

Priscilla nodded. Tina understood her well.

"OK, well, I'm going to go home then. OK? She's not inviting you over to talk. But you know that. So I'm going to go home, and you call me if you need anything, OK?"

Tina nodded, and the two of them shared a hug.

"I promise we'll hang out more tomorrow. I'm not coming here to just sleep with a bunch of ladies."

Priscilla laughed and nodded.

"OK, well, have fun. Be safe."

The two of them then walked to Esmerelda, and Priscilla continued past her.

"Where is she going?" Esmerelda asked, though she was fully aware of what was transpiring.

"She's just going home."

"Is she sure?"

"Yeah, she's good."

Esmerelda nodded and smiled.

"Well, shall we?"

Tina nodded, and put her hand on Esmerelda's arm as she walked her to her car. No kiss was exchanged, but Esmerelda did not mind. She had plenty of time to make a move at that moment.

Esmerelda and Tina got to her house about 15 minutes later. Tina took in the beautiful mountains of Idaho as they drove home, and the conversation surprisingly stayed to a minimum. To most people this might have weirded them out. "If I don't say enough, she will get bored and leave."

But Esmerelda, as she knew, was not most people. She could afford to play it silent, because that played to her personality and, more importantly, she didn't care if she left. There would be another woman the day after, or at worst, the week after. Fretting over missing out on one fish in an ocean made no sense.

When they pulled up to the house, Tina turned to Esmerelda with a gawking smile.

"You're place is so beautiful! How did you make it so?"

Esmerelda shrugged casually.

"I've been lucky, what can I say."

Tina smirked.

"Shall we go and have some wine?"

Tina nodded quickly, and she opened the door. Esmerelda quickly got to her—one of the few times she moved faster than a stroll—and helped her up by the hand. When Tina looked her in the eyes, she looked like she wanted to kiss her. She wanted to pull her in there—maybe even fuck her right there.

But Esmerelda, ever the impossible to read woman, did not respond and led her to the house.

Inside, everything seemed just bigger than normal. The spacing, the furniture—it all seemed like it might have been built for an NBA player instead of Esmerelda, who couldn't have been taller than 5'9, maybe 6'0 in the right heels. But maybe that was just the way she liked things.

"I love how big everything is in here," Tina said as Esmerelda went into the kitchen for the wine. "It seems like you could just lose yourself in here."

"No doubt," Esmerelda said as she turned the corner. She had removed her coat and her body and curves appeared sexy under her shirt. Tina began to feel very good about her decision to come home with her.

The two of them then clinked glasses. Tina sat down and made sure she sat in a suggestive pose. She leaned forward, her cleavage exposed, and tried to make herself available as clearly as possible. Conversation started casually at first, but Tina was starting to become impatient. She had totally fallen for Esmerelda, and though she wasn't sure, one thing was—Esmerelda knew it, and was simply biding her time, knowing having to wait was an aphrodisiac.

"So, Esmerelda," she said, the wine starting to overcome her. "I want to know how a woman like you sleeps in a place like this. A place so big! I would love to see."

Esmerelda smirked. The woman had expressed her desire in the most direct way possible. It wasn't going to be worth it to wait anymore—in fact, it would cause more harm. But, that was fine.

"Follow me," she said, holding her hand as she stood up.

She did not let go and guided her to her room, up a flight of stairs. Tina shivered and just before entering the doorway, wondered if she was making the right choice. After all, barely two weeks ago, she was an engaged woman. And now, she was about to fuck a woman she'd met just barely an hour ago.

But by that logic, if she held herself to the standards of the past, why not fuck no one? Her 15-year old self didn't. So what was the difference?

Of course, there were plenty of differences. But with hardly any time to launch such a philosophical discussion and consider the ramifications, she couldn't change her mind. Besides, Esmerelda was too damn hot.

"Do you like what you see?" she said.

She took a few steps forward and gawked at the room. It was pristine white, as if in a sanctuary. Art paintings hung on the wall, displaying medieval creatures, and the bed looked like it had multiple covers on it. It was quite the sight to behold.

Then she felt hands on her shoulders. She leaned back.

"Yes, I do," she said.

Esmerelda let out a soft chuckle. Tina turned around, and threw her arms around her neck. Both of them were inches from each other.

"Well, so do I."

And with that, Esmerelda leaned forward and kissed Tina. Tina never resisted, and the two of them kissed passionately.

 **4**

The tenderness of the kiss did not last long, however, as the dominant side of Esmerelda shone through. She grabbed her by the ass and back forcefully and picked her up. Tina let out a surprise yelp and then laughed, thoroughly enjoying the moment. Though it did not consciously cross her mind, she had never had a woman take control that easily.

Esmerelda then guided her to the bed and let her fall down. Once she lay flat on the bed, she removed her shirt. Tina smiled at her body. She clearly took good car of it, with the flat stomach and beautiful breasts. Before she had a chance to admire the rest, she was on top of her, smothering her face and neck with kisses. She helped her remove her shirt, and the kisses went down from the neck to her chest.

"Oh, God, Esmerelda, yes, yes," she said.

She waited for her to remove her bra… but instead she went back to the neck and face. Damnit, she thought, just suck my tits! But then she realized it was all part of the larger game—by not going for what most wanted immediately, Esmerelda showed herself to have more self-control than the average woman. As a result, there was little doubt about her dominance. Of course, this made the foreplay as hot as an inferno, and guaranteed when she finally did get down there, it was going to feel an infinite amount of times hotter than normal.

"Esmerelda, baby," she said.

But Esmerelda did not respond. Instead, she finally did go down, and removed her bra. She then went to work on her breasts, starting gently, focusing on one at a time. Slowly, but very much self-assuredly and confidently, she worked harder, rougher and on both of them. Tina loved her sense of pace. Most either dragged it out too long or rushed too quickly into it. Just as white boys couldn't dance, most people period couldn't do foreplay. But Esmerelda… holy hell.

She then worked her way down to her stomach which she kissed gently. She messed with her hair, and began quivering in her hips before she had even removed her pants. Her foreplay skills were that good—hell, her foreplay to the foreplay was that fucking good. She imagined she could probably get her off without ever using her tongue or probably even her fingers. The tease had become the actual sexual experience.

But, of course, as a woman, Esmerelda wanted to get off too. So she wasn't going to wait forever. In fact, she wasn't going to wait any longer. She unbuckled her pants, pulled them and her underwear down, and started licking her feet.

"Oh, fuck!" she yelled, not expecting it to feel that good.

In fact, it felt sexually amazing. She had just discovered a new fetish she never even knew she had.

She worked her way down from her feet to her calves, which she stroked gently with her fingers. She then kissed her thighs, gently touching with her lips. She worked her way to the fold between her thighs and her pussy, which she aggressively kissed. She seemed to take careful notice, however, to not yet touch her on her pussy.

She then went back up to her mouth, and Tina had had enough. She couldn't contain her patience any longer.

"Damnit, Esmerelda, get down there, fucking eat my pussy."

Esmerelda took her cue, and quickly, but not frantically, made her way down her chest and stomach. When she reached her pussy, she seemed to slow, but she did not go anywhere else. She breathed slowly over it, as if smelling her. She took one or two whiffs, and let out a pleasant "ahhh." Tina tilted her head back, enthralled by the woman. She closed her eyes and softly moaned, waiting for her tongue to get to work.

Seconds later, she got her wish.

"Ohhhh!"

Esmerelda's tongue seemed to swirl in multiple directions at once, hitting her all over. It worked its way from the bottom to the top. It went in circles. It hit the outer rim of her clit, and slithered inside. She squirmed as her legs squeezed tightly around Esmerelda's head, unable to contain the sensations running through her.

"Fuck, Esmerelda, you're so fucking good."

She did not respond, at least not in a clear fashion. She did make a sound a woman might make while having a particularly delicious steak, which Tina loved even more. She put her hands on her head and ran them through her hair some more. When the sensations got to be too much, she touched herself, as if adding pleasure to more spots in her body might make the "too-much" sensation fade a bit. Of course, it only enhanced it, but no one could've thought straight the way Esmerelda went at her.

She thought of how glad she was to have come here. There was no regret, no sense of shame, no disappointment. It was all good, all awesome. And if a thought of "is this right" did cross Tina's mind, it was quickly replaced by the fact that Esmerelda seemed to find a new sensitive spot to hit every second.

"Damn, Esmerelda," she said.

She was beginning to feel tension rise every so slightly. It wasn't quite at the edge, and probably wouldn't be for a couple of minutes anyways. But Tina could definitely feel it, and it was fine anyways since she never climaxed quickly.

She did not stop Esmerelda, and just as she figured, within about two minutes, she found herself very close to the edge of orgasm. But Esmerelda, perhaps sensing how close she was, suddenly reached under her, cupped her ass, and flipped her over with her. She suddenly found herself facesitting, and the position brought out new sensations to enjoy. New waves of energy, new physical relaxers, new everything. It had also been a while since she enjoyed this.

Though the position switch had briefly set her back a couple of moments on the orgasm path, it also meant when it did come, it would feel that much hotter. And soon, as she grinded her hips on her face and took her hands and put them on her, she began to feel closer to the edge of orgasm.

"Fuck, it's right there Esmerelda, it's right there."

She turned around and reached into her pants and…she felt something strange.

She felt pussy, yes. But she also felt something growing. She could've sworn it was a dick, but she decided not to think about it and brought her hands forward as she came closer to orgasm.

Her entire body tensed. She had reached the near-climax.

"Oh God, I'm gonna cum!"

She shut her eyes and her legs squeezed tight enough to pop open a bottle of champagne.

"Here it comes!"

Then her body released all the tension and she cried out.

"Fuuuuuck! Ahhhhhhhh yes yes yes yes!"

She squirmed and thrashed, her body rushing in a way it hadn't in a long time. Esmerelda kept her hands on her ass, keeping her from moving too far off. Finally, after several moments, she forced herself, the pleasure turning into pain.

"Holy fuck," she said as she laid on the bed, slowly regaining her senses.

Esmerelda let her rest for a couple of seconds. She let out a long sigh, followed by a laugh. Esmerelda had waited long enough.

Tina looked over and saw Esmerelda removing her pants. What came out was unmistakable.

"You're a… a man?"

Esmerelda shook her head.

"Futa."

Tina looked at her, confused. She'd heard the word before, but couldn't place it.

"I am a woman at every moment, except at peak sexual arousal. At that moment, I grow a dick and can fuck women to pleasure them as a man would. And, there's more you'll see in a bit."

Tina thought about it. She liked women, not men.

But Esmerelda was a woman still. And it's not like Tina had never used dildos. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like she might as well just go with it.

Tina chuckled and spread her legs.

"Come here, you dirty woman," she said. "Let me give it to you like you gave it to me."

Esmerelda did not respond. She instead spat on her dick and positioned herself. Tina grabbed her and gave a few strokes, and then guided her to penetration. She let out a soft moan as she broke the barrier, and the soft moan quickly turned into gasping as she began thrusting.

"Oh, fuck, Esmerelda, you're so thick."

Then the pounding picked up rapidly. Too rapidly. Tina began to feel confused. There was no way any human, not even the fittest woman on Earth, could go this hard or this fast.

"How in the fuck—"

But then she looked into Esmerelda's eyes and she saw her eye color shift to yellow. She looked down at her body and noticed the rest of her transforming as well. She was growing fur, becoming more wolf-like, no, not like, actual wolf. She wondered if she had gotten herself into a good spot.

But then she felt her cock expand immensely inside her. And not like she was about to cum, either. With the transformation into a beast, she was becoming more sexually charged, more sexually able, more naturally endowed.

Hey, she thought, more pole to slide on. Fucking give it to me.

"You better live up to what you are, Esmerelda," she said.

Esmerelda, now fully wolf, looked down at her and growled. Tina felt at ease, for it was not a growl of intimidation, but a growl of dominance. The beast then thrusted away furiously. Tina realized now why everything was bigger than it seemed to be in the house.

Esmerelda was not a woman, but a werewolf. Human by day, beast by night. Polite woman by day, ravager of women by night.

It was no wonder the women did not talk about her. How would the men of the town feel, inadequate next to this woman who could beat them simply by being herself? If they found out, they might start at jealousy. But then they would get more violent, more extreme.

Tina swore she would keep quiet. But she also swore this wasn't going to be her last encounter with Esmerelda, for her stroking stimulated so much of her innerness it was hitting spots she didn't know she even had.

"Oh my God, Esmerelda, oh, God."

The beast simply growled, and even let out a few howls to the sky.

The beast maintained this position, which was more than fine with Tina. The simplest position with the beast was hotter than the most exotic position with her ex-fiancé or any other woman she had been with. And the beast seemed to last many minutes, as Tina could feel orgasm rising in her again.

As she approached climax, she noticed the monster swelling. Both of them were about to climax simultaneously.

"C'mon, Esmerelda, fuck me, let's both cum, c'mon!"

Esmerelda's dick continued to swell, and it seemed like her cum was rising slowly in her shaft. Tina, for her part, was doing her best to hold the orgasm until she was sure the beast was about to blow her load—all the better for the perfect moment.

"Esmerelda, cum in me, come on, cum in me."

Then the beast's tip swelled and it let out a howl. Tina stopped resisting the ensuing climax, and like a dam having just shattered, she felt the feeling quickly overwhelm her.

"Oh, FUCK!"

Then she screamed as her entire body filled with the same orgasmic sensation. She could scarcely notice Esmerelda cumming in her, shooting rope after rope into her pussy. Both of them let out their own cries, both of them squirmed, animals in heat in their own respective way.

Perhaps too perfectly, both of them settled down at the same time. Esmerelda withdrew herself with a moan and Tina smiled as she felt warm seed flowing within her. The beast slowly transformed back into the Esmerelda, and Tina smiled as she sat up with frazzled hair.

"Holy shit, Esmerelda," she said.

Esmerelda smiled. Tina looked down and saw she had the genitals of a woman now, true to her word.

"I take it you have had a satisfying evening," she said.

Tina chuckled.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That was the best I've ever had!"

Esmerelda nodded.

"Likewise."

Tina smirked. She wanted to know if that was true. But then again, what if it was? What if it wasn't? She had gotten her best, and she had cum. Both parties had won.

Tina and Esmerelda then passed out moments later.

 **5**

Esmerelda cooked Tina breakfast the next day. She explained to her in honest terms that she enjoyed her life, she was not looking for anything serious, but that she appreciated what she offered and she was welcome to come by anytime. She appreciated her frankness and promised to do so.

She then dropped her off at Priscilla's house, making sure no one saw so she would not have to experience the shame. When she walked in, Priscilla smiled at her.

"So, how was it? Did the woman live up to the legend?"

Tina chuckled. She knew she could not tell the whole story. Even if she wanted to, words could not express how fucking great, how fucking dominant, how fucking pleasurable Esmerelda gave it to her.

But she could surely hint at it.

"The legend doesn't even come close to encapsulating everything Esmerelda is, Priscilla."

###


	4. Rich Wolf

**Rich Wolf, Willing Woman**

 **1**

Walking into the club, Ashley eyed the various women dancing and hanging out at the tables. She knew she could have her share of any. She had worn her sexiest outfit to this particular club—a tight, sequin light blue dress which would draw the attention of any woman, taken or not, lesbian or bisexual or straight. She had on heels high enough to make her tall enough for anyone. And she was with two of her hottest friends, Meghan and Wendy. The three of them were going to find good women tonight, no matter what.

"Should we start in the back and make our way forward?" Wendy said.

Ashley nodded with a grin. It wasn't an actual question—more a confirmation that they were going to do what they had always done. She looked over at Meghan, who seemed to still be eying the crowd.

"C'mon, let's go," she said.

They made their way to the dance floor, aware of all of the eyes on them but focused on one thing only—finding a good woman. And not just a good woman—a woman who could take care of them physically.

"What about that girl over there? Nice dress. Looks like she's got a lot of money."

Ashley looked at the table about 10 degrees to her right. Meghan was right. The woman had gorgeous blonde hair and a nice black dress. She looked closer and saw she had a nice ring.

"Taken."

"That hasn't stopped you before," she said, practically yelling into her ear over the loud club music.

Ashley shrugged.

They continued their gazes across the club, and to their disappointment, no one in particular seemed to show up. Most of the patrons tonight were older gentlemen or women they had already hooked up with whom they did not wish to see again. In Ashley's mind, the goal was the best or none—she wasn't going to lower herself.

And it wasn't because she looked down on them. It was because she'd grown up so poor, so resentful of her parents' general laziness and bigotry that she made it a point to reach the upper echelon of society while being open about her sexuality. It was both sad and admirable—she wanted to pull herself up by the bootstraps and mingle with the best. Though she would never admit it, she did at times wonder if she had done it wrong. Was there something to be said for going back to those she grew up with, and maybe not be poor, but just accept those she grew up with and be comfortable with money? Could she ignore their bigoted comments?

Thus, she lived in a terrible world of inner conflict—one where she had the confidence to get any girl she wanted and the means to accessorize in ways to guarantee she would, but one where she wondered if having confidence in something meant she absolutely had to do it. She could have absolute confidence that she could fuck a woman and steal all her shit—did that mean she should?

"Oh my God, is that Danika?"

Ashley broke out of her mind trance to hear Wendy yelling over at the table behind her. Indeed, it was her—Danika.

Danika was something of an enigma to most of the people in New York. She was a rich, light-skinned, lesbian black woman who had sold a company catering to athletes in the 10 figures, making her one of the many billionaires in town. But to see her out was a rare sighting. The rumor was she only went out when she had a woman at home to satisfy her—she was one of those who did not like to go out without a guarantee. That seemed slightly odd to Ashley, since presumably she could have any woman she wanted, but some women never grew out of their childhood insecurities. Perhaps Danika had not been hit on until she got rich, and thus assumed no woman would want her at a club.

The thoughts of conflict in her head disappeared. She could deal with them in the morning. In the meantime, her and her friends wanted to meet with Danika and her group of about three others.

"C'mon, let's dance right in front of that table," she said.

The girls did so, throwing glances at Danika and her friends every so often. Danika seemed to sit back and soak the environment in, a slight grin on her face, a grin that suggested peace more than unbridled joy. One of her cohorts would smack Meghan's ass, and she would turn around and smirk at them. The waiter passed them by, and brought out bottles of high-end vodka and Ace of Spades champagne.

Once the waiter had left, the bouncer turned to the three girls.

"Ms. Holmes has requested that you all join her at her table. Would you be so kind as to join?"

Ashley turned to Meghan and Wendy, who had already passed her to the table. Ashley chuckled, and made a straight dash to Danika.

 **2**

"Hey there, how are you?" Danika said.

Ashley smiled, able to see her up close. She had a nice face, great body, beautiful diamond earrings—and then she smiled, and her teeth seemed immaculate. It also seemed real. It didn't seem like the shady, pretentious smile that rich women sometimes threw her. She may have slept with a few rich women in her life, but she liked to make sure they at least gave the pretense of liking her and treating her well instead of seeing her as a commodity.

"Good, thank you," Ashley said.

"The name's Danika Holmes. And you are?"

"Ashley Brown."

"Such a lovely name," she said. "May I interest you in some of our Ace of Spades? It's a party here tonight, you know."

Ashley's eyes widened and she kept her gaze on Danika as she had one of her friends pour them glasses of champagne.

"What's the occasion?"

"Why, it's my birthday, Miss Brown. And I'm glad you could join us to celebrate!"

"Hey! Happy Birthday!"

Danika nodded in appreciation as the two of them clinked glasses.

"The only downside is I can't be here too long. I have to leave just before midnight."

Ashley looked confused, and decided to tease her a bit.

"What, are you Cinderella? Does the spell wear off and you return to a peasant at that time?"

Danika let out a boisterous, lively laugh. It was the kind of a laugh a woman could only have if she truly loved life and had more to her than just money. Though the laugh lasted only moments, it immediately made Ashley like her even more. Perhaps this was a generous, real billionaire—who could also take a joke.

"Something like that," she said. "I just have matters to attend to at that time that would ideally be done outside of the club."

Ashley nodded, deciding not to press the issue too far.

"Who are your friends?" Danika asked as if sipped from her champagne.

"Oh, one of them is Wendy, she's the one sitting next to that guy there."

"Dominic, yeah, he's cool. I only keep good guys in my crew, I wouldn't worry about them."

"Cool, and… there was one other here, Meghan. I don't see her…"

Danika looked perplexed, almost concerned, and then she let out a laugh.

"Is she that girl with Mario out there?"

She looked out and saw a man making out with the woman Danika pointed to. She had the same dress as Meghan, and sure enough, when she pulled back, it was her.

"Girl moves fast, don't she?"

Ashley shrugged with a smile.

"My girlfriends know what they want and they like to go and get it, I guess."

"Do you know what you want?"

It was a simple question, but it reignited the conversation she had had in her head just moments ago. She realized that no, she didn't. She liked the affluence that her current life and social circle brought, but she missed the tight bonds, unaffected by concerns of power and social status, that her previous circles brought. She truly couldn't make up her mind, but if she had to lean in one direction…

"Sort of," she said. "I'm just at that stage where I'm figuring things out, so not quite."

"If you don't mind me asking," Danika said slowly, pouring her and Ashley another glass of champagne. "How old are you?"

"23."

Danika again let out the lively laugh, and Ashley blushed. She didn't feel shamed by the woman's chuckle.

"Oh my, you're just a young in! Ashley, when I was 23, I was so broke I had to eat straight from jars of peanut butter! A treat for me was a bagel with cream cheese! You're so far ahead of where I am right now that I wouldn't worry about it. Trust me, I'm 33 and just now starting to appreciate and get the good things in life. You've got time."

That made Ashley feel much better. Not just about herself—it made her realize she didn't have to have all the answers at that moment. It also made her how much she liked Danika. She really wanted to go home with her now, but it had somehow become less about the sex and more about connecting to someone genuine. It hit her then—the most successful didn't do any of the shit that she had to suffer with when dealing with the local millionaires and sometimes billionaire. They carried themselves with dignified mystery like Danika.

"Wow, that's good stuff Danika," she said.

"Thanks, Ashley. I appreciate that."

She looked down at her watch, and it showed 11:20 p.m. By her own internal calculations, she had about 20 minutes before she had to bounce.

"Listen, can I bother you for a dance?"

Ashley normally did not hesitate in such a spot, because everything would always go to plan. Go to hot rich girl, flirt, get some drinks, dance, fuck, go home, and nothing else. But now she'd suddenly found herself face-to-face—or mind-to-mind, as it were—with an internal conflict brought to fore bore that she froze when she asked. She smiled and chuckled politely.

"Come, now, don't be shy. If you don't like my moves you can always make fun of them."

Ashley laughed, enough to break her out of the spell. She stood up and grabbed Danika's hand, and the two of them headed over to the dance floor.

With the flashing lights, the loud club music, the DJ—or the artists, she couldn't tell—singing "I just can't stop" over and over again, it felt like a more erotic experience than some of the sexual encounters she had had. The woman knew how to dance, seemingly in perfect rhythm with the sounds of the club. She moved her hands all over her body perfectly—not shyly, but not so aggressive as to turn things into a dirty orgy either. She had perfect flow. She bent into her neck and bit gently, causing her to cringe in pleasant feeling. She felt her pussy getting warmer and wetter, preparing for what now seemed like an inevitability.

She turned around and threw her arms around her neck, and the two of them found them locked into their eyes. They stared, perhaps trying to comprehend what lay behind each. For Ashley, she saw the eyes of a woman who had always known she was going to make it, but still expressed profound joy when she got there. Perhaps she knew she would be successful, but didn't know how successful she would be. Danika saw a woman who was going through some kind of a phase—perhaps the gold-digging stage many girls who come from poor areas go through when they find rich people. But for whatever reason, she still saw joy and a vibrancy for life.

Their eyes locking spelled an inevitability for the night. The only question was, would this brief two-hour fling—or however long it would wind up going—lead to anything more? The thought crossed both of their minds, but neither wanted to address the question.

The eye locking did not last much longer, however, because it was replaced by the only thing better—lips locking. Continuing to sway to the beat, Ashley lost herself kissing the billionaire charmer, the woman who seemed to have as much riches in her genuineness as she did in her bank account. The kiss felt like something she'd been waiting for for years.

She pulled back after a few moments, but the chemicals running through Ashley had ensured she would not be pulling out of sight, or anywhere without her, for the rest of the night.

"Listen, Ashley, I like you a lot, but I do have to bounce in a couple minutes, so…"

Ashley decided to be bold. She liked this woman too much to not be.

"So let me come with you. I want to get to know you better."

Danika's face expressed confusion, then concern, then melted in a nice chuckle.

"Oh Ashley, you are a tricky one to resist, I will give you that. What the hell, let's just shoot it real. I'm heading back to my place. Midnight can get crazy in my place, but if you're OK with that, then let's go."

"I'm OK with many things, Danika," Ashley said. "Including anything with you."

Danika smiled, and she quickly went back to make sure everything was taken care of as far as the tab and her boys. Everything was fine, so she grabbed Ashley by the hand and led her out of the club. Ashley turned around just in time to see her two girlfriends with guys each, ensuring everyone would have a happy ending for the evening.

 **3**

Danika led Ashley across the street in the cold of NYC and the two of them only had to go one other block before arriving at Danika's high-rise penthouse. Ashley looked up, beyond impressed. Even by rich New York standards, this seemed beyond the realm of possibility. It was certainly beyond anything she had ever seen.

They walked through the door, and Danika nodded politely at the front desk staff. She got on the elevator and pressed for the top floor. She turned to Ashley, and their kissing immediately resumed, somehow with much more passion and fire than in the club. Without the club music to drown out the sounds, Ashley became much more cognizant of her moaning, of Danika's own gasps, and it turned her on even more. She knew how soft her voice was, how sexy that sounded in bed and intimately. She loved knowing that Danika would be getting off so much to this.

"Oh, God, Danika," she said as she pulled away, close to the penthouse.

Danika simply smiled.

"It's rare to find a girl like you, one who's open about how she is and where she is. Most girls just want to get my money, to bang, and to call it a day. People think that's the life, but it's not, not especially after a few such dates."

Ashley nodded. She couldn't lie, she knew she had come there specifically for someone with money and to get laid. But she also couldn't lie in the fact that such a life was beginning to at least develop doubts in her mind, and that maybe she had better things ahead of her.

The elevator doors opened and Danika led her down the hall. She unlocked her door and Ashley stepped through. She could not believe what she saw—the place was fucking huge. Even by what she imagined penthouses to look like, it was fucking huge. It overlooked almost all of Manhattan, and it seemed to have one room empty with no purpose. Then, when she stepped closer, she saw what looked like scuff marks on the wall.

"Wow, Danika, this place is incredible," she said.

She looked at the clock. 11:56 p.m.

"Thank you. I'm just lucky enough to be able to afford it."

She then headed into the kitchen, which contained seemingly enough ingredients to make anything in the world. She walked past that to the bedroom, a massive space adorned with a massive bed. She sat on it and looked up at Danika, who had removed her coat.

"Did you have fun tonight?" she asked.

"Oh, of course," Ashley said. "Night's not over, you know."

Danika turned to her with a smile. She turned back to the clothing rack, appeared to hesitate for the first time all night, and then quickly turned back to her and walked to her.

"No, it's not."

It all happened so fast, Ashley didn't have time to think about what was going on. But she didn't need time to think to know instinctually what Danika was doing. She leaned back on the bed, her head falling into the soft sheets, as Danika pressed himself on top, kissing her, caressing her, grabbing her all over. Ashley moaned softly as her hands explored her body, feeling all of her curves and perfectly sized tits and ass. She kissed her neck, her forehead, her lips—all over. She sat up and unzipped her dress from the back, and then slowly slipped it off. She laid there in nothing but her bra and underwear, and Danika quickly removed her own dress.

She noticed something peculiar—her chest was a darker shade than the rest of her skin. Her face and hands could almost be mistaken for a tan white woman if someone didn't know her. But her breasts definitely seemed black—like, literal black, not dark brown like black people.

She wanted to say something, but didn't want to kill the moment. Plus, Danika had removed her bra and her pants and had begun sucking and playing with her tits, which felt incredibly sensational. She let out a moan and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She didn't want to think about the seemingly huge difference in skin color.

Then Danika began kissing her stomach and working her way down. She knew what was about to come—her, among other things.

Danika reached for her underwear and began pulling it down, and Ashley arched her hips to help. She opened her eyes and looked down and saw that now Danika's face had become darker, and shaped differently. She couldn't stay quiet anymore.

"Danika, what the hell is going on?"

Danika looked up and smiled.

"This is what happens at midnight," she said. "This is going to be weird, but you have to trust me. Do you?"

Ashley nodded without thought. She truly did.

"When a wolf attacked me a few years back, it gave me its own blood. So now, I'm not just a woman. I'm a werewolf. A man wolf. I am Danika, business by day, futa wolf by night. In about two minutes, I won't be able to even speak anymore. I'll keep human hands and feet and… well, other things, but my face and torso will be like a wolf."

Ashley gulped and nodded.

"Don't worry about it, Ashley. I still have control. Nothing will happen to you, except what we're about to do. It'll feel even better—that part gets enhanced. In fact, it's better for you, because if someone interrupts, well, who's going to confront a wolf? And you get the physical pleasure that only a man can provide."

Ashley laughed. The humor calmed her down and she felt more at ease. She saw Danika's nose protrude, and knew the moment was almost at hand.

"Anyways, Ashley, Don't be nervous. I'm going to get between your legs… sniff… lick… and eat that pussy like a fucking animal. How does that sound?"

Danika's slow speech had brought the arousal factor back to Ashley. She spread her legs and nodded down to her pussy.

"I Don't care how it sounds, Danika, I care how it feels. Make it feel fucking hot!"

Danika grinned, and she opened her mouth to reveal her wolf tongue—bigger and thicker than the human tongue. Ashley tilted her head back and mumbled, "oh, God," in anticipation.

Moments later, the wolf had put its tongue on her, and she moaned in ecstasy. She twitched and writhed, overwhelmed at one, how it felt, and two, that someone actually wanted to eat her out and not just fuck her as a cum dumpster.

"Fucking Danika, yes," she said.

She could hear that Danika had indeed become a werewolf, for her responses were no longer human, but that of a horny beast. Ashley reached down to her head, and the short buzz was replaced by what felt like real fur. It still felt amazing, and she pushed her head down further on her. She squeezed her legs around her head.

She thought about how she could keep this woman around. She had had a great first date—and then she laughed, amused at herself for calling it a date. They had met at the club, not a coffee shop! But she knew it wasn't a question of "keeping her around"—she'd want to stay around. She wanted to stay around. The match was more perfect and mutual than it was forced on either side.

Danika then pulled back, and Ashley opened her eyes to see the werewolf climb up over her. She looked down in the dark lights and made the outline of a massive cock—it made the biggest black cock she'd ever been with seem like a puny cucumber. Now she definitely wasn't going anywhere. She had the emotional attachment with Danika and the physical pleasure of the werewolf—why would she?

The wolf let out a soft cry, and then it positioned itself slowly by Ashley. Ashley reached up and grabbed Danika by the neck, scratching her back and belly softly.

"Slide that thing into me, Danika," she whispered. "Fuck me, Danika. Make me cum."

Danika positioned himself, poking gently, until she found the insertion point. She slid into her, and Ashley's body tensed as her pussy filled with werewolf cock. She began thrusting slowly, almost intimately. Ashley looked into the eyes of Danika, and she was still convinced and aware that Danika was in control, and not just some beast. She just so happened to have the physical form of a beast.

Then she picked up, and Ashley began to see how beastly this creature could be. She thrusted way too fast for any human, and it felt so good, Ashley wondered if it might be too good—that she was feeling something so good, sex with a human would be spoiled. But then again, she thought, what does it matter? I want to stay with Danika, and I'm going to do that, damnit. Wolf or no wolf.

She cried out and gripped her back tightly, digging her nails into the creature. The wolf let out soft cries and groans, but they paled in comparison to the cries Ashley was giving. She was sure the entire building could hear her sexual gasps. She looked up at the wolf, who gazed back at her deeply. She couldn't kiss the wolf, but damn if she didn't want to do something.

She couldn't remain perfectly still. She had to take control. So she pushed the wolf off and prepared to straddle her.

But then, to her surprise, the wolf did not let her, and shoved her forward. She smiled when she fell face first into the bed, her ass into the air. The beast didn't leave much to the imagination. It also took control in a way she hadn't quite expected Danika to do so. But, she supposed, that was her fault for not seeing that. Danika didn't get to be a billionaire without dominating a few people here and there, she was sure.

She felt the creature smack her ass, and she cried out. She loved it when the woman dominated in this fashion. She couldn't see what was coming—she was just a toy to the beast.

"Yes, yesss."

The beast smacked her again, and then again, and finally it inserted itself. Ashley looked up, moaning as she felt this beast send waves of pleasure through her body. Then, she felt hands reach behind her and grab her breasts. They lifted her up, and she remembered what she had said before transforming—she was a werewolf, not a wolf, and thus still kept certain human characteristics.

The beast lurched her up, and she found herself leaning against the creature, its hands kneading her breasts, its dick ravaging the inside of her. The beast licked her neck, and it felt like she couldn't have more pleasure in that moment if she tried.

Then she realized she could. She could use her hands. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and she cried, "oh God! Oh God! Oh fuck!"

As if someone had removed the faucet cap and the sink had gushed out, her entire body went from gradual, incremental increases in pleasure to a full flood. She screamed—full, literal screaming—and felt orgasm rising through her body. She couldn't keep up with her gasping.

"Fuck me, Danika! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!"

The wolf grinded and thrusted even harder, and soon, Ashley felt herself on the edge.

"Oh, fuck! Here it comes, here it comes!"

Her entire body tensed, and she prepared to release.

"Oh…. FUCK!"

Her body released, and a giant tsunami of pleasure crashed on her. Her body quivered, her legs shook, and the only reason she didn't collapse forward was Danika holding her up. She threw herself in turn against the wolf behind her, slamming herself on the beast, who himself was grunting faster and harder.

Then, she, too, came, her cock shooting seed into her. Both of them cried out in unison, both of them experienced the joy of orgasm, and both of them felt a sense of connectedness unlike anything the other had ever experienced.

Only seconds later, when Danika finished and removed himself and Ashley was able to relax on the bed, did she realize what had just happened. She had fucked a billionaire. She had fucked a billionaire werewolf. She had fucked a billionaire werewolf raw and gotten off in a way she hadn't in a long, long time.

It was hard to top that, and she had no intentions of going anywhere else to try to.

 **4**

Ashley awoke the next morning to see breakfast being served to her by Danika. She smiled, and the two shared a kiss.

"I thought billionaires don't make their own breakfast?"

Danika chuckled politely as she laid the tray on the furniture next to her.

"Some of us still do the dirty work, remember? It's how we get to where we are."

Ashley smiled and playfully slapped the arm of Danika, who had her own laugh. She disappeared to the kitchen to get her own food, and Ashley smiled at her as she left. She never imagined she'd meet someone she'd want to keep around at a nightclub, let alone a nightclub on a night when her sole purpose was to find a rich woman who could fuck her senseless and then leave the next day. Or, for that matter, who was a futa werewolf.

But some things, she decided, just needed the course of time. And the course of time had shown her the best alternative—a woman who had the humility from her beginnings, but still enjoyed her newfound wealth.

She came back in seconds later with a similar plate and Ashley nodded at her.

"So, werewolf, huh?"

"Yeah, makes the late night life crazy," she said with a chuckle. "But I don't really like to stay out that late anyways. I'd prefer to be in by midnight with a girl I can truly appreciate."

Ashley looked at her with a curious smile.

"Do you truly appreciate me, Danika?"

Danika chuckled.

"I told my mamma I'd never lie, so here goes. Yes, I do, Ashley. Why don't you hang out for the day? I can't imagine you have anything going on on a Sunday."

Ashley nodded.

"Well, you're in trouble, Danika. I'm not going anywhere."

The two laughed again, and shared an intimate kiss.

"Of course, you better keep fucking me like a werewolf for the rest of time."

Danika burst out laughing.

"Funny, I used to think of that as a curse. I guess it's a pretty good blessing now, huh?"

"The sexiest one at that, too."

####


	5. The Other Woman

**The Other Woman's a Werewolf**

 **1**

"Mmmm, that's so fucking hot."

Megan tasted the chili on her lips as she sat across the table from her extremely attractive coworker, Tanya. Tanya smiled suggestively at her, and then sipped on some of her water.

"It's the secret recipe, you know," she said. "Passed down from me by my grandma and grandpa. They knew how to make something that someone like you might like."

Megan's eyes went wide as she felt a rush of excitement run through her body. It wasn't the first time being around Tanya that she had felt that excitement surge through her body. The first time she had seen her, her first thought was, "oh wow." Glowing blue eyes, perfect face, and slender body were just the physical traits. Then, when she began talking to her and the other teachers, she just felt a strange sensation.

Even though she was taken, she wanted her.

She tried to dispel the thoughts. "You're taken, you're not supposed to like another woman."

And yet, every time they passed each other, every time Tanya gave a smile and a nod—an expression that said "I know what you're thinking, but I'll be patient enough to wait for you to come around"—Megan got that feeling.

Was it something to do with her partner? Though she was kind and well off, she was also incredibly boring and really not attractive. She didn't like to travel. She had ugly hair and teeth. She wanted to spend every day in their loft. It seemed like wealth had never before been given to someone who would put it to such little use. The one time she had indulged in her company sale's money was for their wedding day… which was mostly enough to keep Megan thinking that Jane would someday revert to that girl, instead of the one acting like she was living on a teacher assistant's salary.

But she did marry her.

"You all right, Megan?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked straight ahead at Tanya, who had a concerned, but confident, grin on her face.

"Sorry," she said. "I was just thinking about things back at the house."

Tanya nodded empathetically.

"Stuff with Jane?"

Megan felt weird opening up to her. She was just a coworker! And she hadn't done anything beyond have this dinner with her—and only because grading essays had gone longer than she had anticipated. Who knew there were so many answers to the question "discuss the implications of World War Two on the USSR's rise?"

But as soon as she opened her mouth, the words came streaming out like water held up by a dam just broken down.

"It's like on paper, she's got what girls want. She's funny and polite, but—"

Megan sighed.

"I don't know, Tanya, this feels weird talking about, and—"

Tanya was getting up to throw some of her food out, but when she passed near Megan, she put her hand on her shoulder. She froze, and felt a chill go down her spine. When she looked into her eyes, her mind raced to what it would be like naked with her. Her and that slender body, those beautiful eyes, the force with which a woman like her would dominate…

Her expression gave away nothing. But she was beginning to feel hornier by the second.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "It's none of my business, and if you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"No, no… no, we should," Megan said. "I need to get some of this off my chest, anyways, I haven't talked to anyone about it."

Tanya smiled politely, then sat back down. Megan gulped. She noticed Tanya leaning forward, as if to get as close as possible. If she wanted to stay out of her business, she may very well—but she was also going to put himself out there while she could.

"But yeah, I remember our wedding day," she said, as she gazed up to the ceiling, remembering the day.

It was a warm day on the lakes of California. It was a balmy and perfect 65, and her partner had hired one of the best bands to perform. She was surrounded by her friends and family, and she kept telling herself, "How did I get so lucky?"

What she wouldn't recall to herself was how, the night before, she wondered "is this something I want to go through?" Jane's default setting was, "if something isn't working, throw money at it." She never considered using her own time, her own emotions or anything that didn't involve a George Washington. Megan was attracted to her at first because of how well-dressed she was and how hard-working she was, but by the time they got to the wedding day, that all had faded away.

The only thing stopping her was the feeling of "what would they say if I told them I left Jane Johnson?"

But the wedding day itself was certainly something to remember. Like a night out in Vegas where, hours before, you'd hated yourself for losing all your money, but then made up for it with epic nightclub experiences.

"The wedding day was so awesome. I remember thinking, 'this is what it's going to be like. We're going to live like this forever, and be queens.'"

She then paused.

"But…" Tanya said, knowing there was a but.

"It's been kind of all downhill from there. Like, right now, her default setting is to just buy me something. I have a rough day? Buy me dinner somewhere nice. I have a rough week? Buy me a nice dress. In a way, it's nice, but… Tanya, I have everything I need."

When she said her name, she found her hand going onto her arm. Tanya did not change expression, and though Megan pulled her arm back, she knew what her body wanted. She just wondered if eventually her mind would come around. If she could bring herself around.

"That's tough," Tanya said. "What are you going to do?"

She leaned back in her chair, making sure that she would not be tempted to touch Tanya… or worse.

"I don't know, Tanya, I don't. I guess try and get the woman back that I had on my wedding day."

Tanya nodded.

"Forgive me for asking, but is the physical side of your relationship strong?"

Megan blurted out a laugh, then covered her face in embarrassment. Tanya smiled and shrugged in sympathy.

"Does that answer that?"

Tanya nodded, smart enough to not press the issue further. Besides, she had all of the information she needed already.

"Anyways, Tanya, thanks for grabbing dinner with me," she said. "And for cooking that chili. Holy shit, I didn't think you could put something like that in the fridge, microwave it, and have it still pop out so good!"

Tanya laughed and stood up as she gathered her things.

"Hey, like I said, secret recipe of sorts, passed down. Are you about to head out?"

Megan nodded quickly and stood up in a haste.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go to our cars."

The two of them walked out to the car, trading stories of crazy students. It was almost the same thing every time the two of them talked—both talking about their boys trying to hit on them awkwardly. It was inevitable for both of them—Tanya with her slender build, and Megan with her long dirty blonde hair and slim body.

When they got to their cars, Tanya leaned back against her car. Megan still had about twenty feet to go.

"Tanya, thank you again, you're a great girl," she said.

"And you're a great girl," she said, smiling at her with a hint of suggestion. "Come here."

She opened her arms up, and Megan fell into her embrace. She did not resist when she ran her hand up and down her back—in fact, she kind of wished she kept doing it. It gave her goosebumps and felt incredibly good. She feared for the moment when she looked up—would she kiss her? Would she want to kiss her?

Well, she knew the answer to the second question. But that didn't mean it was automatically the same as the first.

She let out a soft exhale as she leaned into her some more. After what seemed like several seconds, she pulled back, putting her hands on her side. She looked up at her face, and there was no doubt what she was hoping for. She had leaned in, not so close to expect it on the spot, but close enough their eyes locked intensely.

She gulped and then took a step back. Not yet. She couldn't, just yet.

"I'll, uhh, see you tomorrow?" she said.

Tanya' face flickered with disappointment, but then went back to its calm and collected form.

"Absolutely," she said. "Do you have my number, in case you need anything?"

"Uhhh…" Megan said as she ran through her contacts on her phone.

She did not. She gave her phone to Tanya and told her to put her number in her phone. She did so and gave the phone back.

"Thanks, Tanya, see you later," she said, and as she left, she gave her arm a slight rub.

They again locked eyes, and Megan paused. But she quickly jerked herself free. Her body may have said yes, but her conscious wasn't ready to.

"See you tomorrow," she said as she walked away.

She waved back at her. Tanya got in her car, and speed off relatively quickly. Megan looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.

"You really do want her," she said. "Try and make things good with Jane tonight."

 **2**

She got home about 20 minutes later, the clock just striking past 7 p.m. as she walked in.

"Jane?" she said as she walked in.

She heard the sound of potato chips crunching in the living room and a TV show playing on the tube.

"It's that time of the week, baby!" she said, chip debris splattering on her shirt.

Megan looked at her with a mix of sadness and contempt. _This was the woman I have taken. What it could have been… no, stop. Remember what you told yourself. Make it right. Take action. Do it._

"Well," she said, as she forced a smile. "I know of a few things it's time for—"

"Ohhh!" she yelled.

She walked in closer, having undone just one button on her shirt, and looked at the TV. Someone had just slapped someone. It was nothing Megan came even close to caring about.

"Baby," she said, trying to regain her composure. "Why are you watching this silly game? I know something much better we can watch. Or, better yet, something much better we can do."

She arched an eyebrow at Jane as she took another button off. Jane appeared to flash her a look, but she immediately turned her attention back to the show. _What the hell kind of… woman, I can barely say, did I marry?_

She decided she had to really lay it out explicitly. She couldn't suggest it to Jane. The lazy life had consumed her. It wasn't that she had just stopped working a job—it was that she had stopped working her life. She had gained weight, had less of a personal relationship with her wife, and her sex drive had gone down.

And the worst, to Megan, was that it wasn't like it started after they got taken. It started probably over a year before they had that wedding day.

She went to the TV and shut it off. Jane said, "hey, what the—" and before she could finish, Megan had grabbed her shoulders, pulled her up, and pressed her mouth against her. Jane, for her part, did not resist, wrapping her hands around her and pulling her close.

But even as she took it on, something didn't feel right. _I shouldn't have to pull my girl up off the couch to have sex._

Megan did her best to get out of the way of her own thoughts as clothes came off. Jane's shirt came off, as did Megan's, and soon, she was straddling her topless. But, even in that state, she had to grab Jane's face and plow them into her breasts to get her to do so. The complete lack of effort—no, the complete lack of sexiness—on Jane's part killed the sex vibe. At that point, Megan just wanted to push through, and got Jane's pants off.

They began fingering each other, and in a way, physically, it felt good. But there was no chance in hell she was ever getting to orgasm. She had too many thoughts running through her head, and she felt too much disappointment—almost sadness—at the situation. They weren't having sex, really—she was half-fucking Jane. It was as sad as actually sexual experiences went.

Megan gave fake moans every so often, and hoped Jane would not be able to tell the difference. But why would she? She was just sitting there. Maybe if she took an active role…

This went on for a few minutes. Jane eventually reached the point of no-return, as her face began blushing and she began panting faster. _Thank fucking God,_ Megan thought.

Jane grunted. She let out some soft moans to try and encourage Jane to keep going, and seconds later, it was over. She collapsed onto the couch, breathing slowly, like a runner catching her breath. Megan couldn't believe it had ended like that.

"OK, that was awesome. You should do that next Monday night."

 _You should. Not I will. Or we should. But you should._

Megan maintained a smile as she removed herself from Jane, and then as she got her clothes, she laughed at one of Jane's jokes about that being better than the show. But undeniably, it was a terrible sexual experience. It had a few seconds of absolute hotness, but in the remaining several minutes, it was a chore. _Do laundry. Cook dinner. Make Jane cum._

The joy that had come when they first had sex, when Jane still had drive rivaling the best she'd ever had, was nowhere to be seen.

Megan finished dressing and grabbed her purse as she headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of wine. She heard the TV turn back on, and shook her head. It was nothing more than a commercial break for Jane. She grabbed her phone from her purse and saw she had one message.

It was from Tanya.

"Great talk tonight. Let me know if you need anything else."

Megan gulped. She knew what she wanted—the last 20 minutes had confirmed that in totality. If she had any thought of sending Jane back to her old ways, that was gone. If impromptu, couch, Megan-dominated sex didn't drive her partner crazy, what would?

She grabbed her phone and hit reply. She gulped. Was she really going to do this? She had never before… but she'd never been in a spot like this before…

She typed out her message, pausing nearly every word to consider what she was saying.

"I do, Tanya. Where are you? We should go talk somewhere now."

She hovered her hand over the send button. She knew what sending that message would do. They were not going to just "go talk somewhere." They'd already done that back at the teacher's lounge and parking lot, and they'd nearly gotten physical there. Going someplace much more private—where no other teacher, or probably anyone else they knew, would see them—would almost certainly result in clothes being torn off.

Then she heard Jane yell in the other room.

"Hell yes! Best thing to happen today! They got together, baby!"

She hit send. As soon as she did, she sat down at the table.

 _Might as well look on the bright side. No sense in going over there and having crying sex. Get yourself together. You know what your body wants. You know what YOU want. Don't feel guilty. Just go and fuck her, and enjoy the hell out of it!_

She smiled. She muttered to herself, "Do it. You can do this."

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly pulled it up. Sure enough, it was Tanya.

"You can come to my place if you want. 1236 3rd Street."

She nodded. She could always back out. She could say she wanted to meet her somewhere public—try and make it less likely…

No, that was stupid. She was going down this path, she was going to commit all the way. Jane had left her as a toy to her, to be played with and discarded for the next entertaining thing as soon as something else came up. She was going to be someone's woman.

"Yeah, I'll leave now. I'll be there in the next 30 minutes."

She hit send without hesitation and stood up. The fear, the shame—it had disappeared, replaced by determination. Determination to fuck someone who would treat her as she deserved to be treated. She grabbed her purse and strode over to the door.

She turned to see Jane sitting there, watching commercials now.

"Going to get drinks with the girls," she said.

Jane waved at her, not taking her gaze off the TV. Megan wondered why she had even bothered to let her know where she was going.

She opened the door and left without another word. She got in her car, drove with music blaring, and never once thought about turning around.

24 minutes later, she stood outside Tanya's place. She called her, and as soon as she answered, she said, "I'm here."

 **3**

"Come on up, I'll be waiting," Tanya said.

Megan replied she would, and hung up. She looked up at the sky, which had almost gone pitch black. She saw the moon beginning to take on a brighter appearance, and didn't think about it again. She walked up the stairs with a determined look on her face. She had applied a bit more makeup and lipstick in the car, and had left her shirt unbuttoned at the very top. It didn't leave much to the imagination.

She got to the front door of Tanya' place after two flights of stairs and knocked. She heard footsteps coming. There was no turning back now. There weren't even thoughts of turning back. Jane had killed her feelings of guilty.

Tanya opened the door, standing there in gym shorts and a white tank top.

"Megan, what—"

"Tanya," she said, and before she could respond, she reached up, grabbed her face, and began making out.

Much to her surprise, Tanya actually recoiled for a second, perhaps in shock at having this actually happen. But when she opened her eyes to look at her, and she looked back at her, she didn't waste anytime. She pulled her back in, and their mouths met, trading tongues. She gripped her groin, and she grabbed her ass, squeezing. The two of them crashed through the apartment, as Tanya slammed her up against a wall. She tore at the buttons, taking them off, and Megan looked at her with eager anticipation.

 _She's a fucking animal. A fucking beast. This is fucking hot. Fuck me, Tanya, and fuck me good._

She reached down and pulled off her shirt. When it came off, she looked at her body with eager anticipation. Gorgeous didn't begin to describe her. Slender stomach, perfect arms, nicely-sized breasts. Not too big to seem gross, but big enough to have fun with.

Tanya went back to her shirt, nibbling on skin as the shirt came further undone. She let out soft whimpers and ran her hands through her hair. When she got to the bottom, she came up and resumed French kissing. She tossed her shirt aside, and then quickly discarded of her bra. Her hands went up to her chest and began toying with her tits, causing her to moan as she tossed her head back and cry out.

 _God, this is exactly what I needed. Get your head down there. Fucking devour my pussy and make me cum, you dirty dirty woman._

The pants came off shortly after that, leaving just the underwear. Rather than go straight to that, however, Tanya got down on her knees and worked her way up, kissing from her ankles and slowly going to her thighs. The sudden change in pace—from wild, scavenging creature to slow, seductive master—drove her fucking crazy. She wanted her even more, wanted her to tear off her panties with her teeth if that's what it took.

"Oh, fuck," she said, unable to resist it any longer.

She dropped her panties and let Tanya work her way up. She slowly circled her way around her, and smelled her, sniffing as if trying to decide what flavor she was. She was so aroused, she could've shoved her entire head into her pussy and let her work from the inside out.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, her tongue made contact with her pussy, and she let out a corresponding cry, groaning loudly as her tongue went from flickering on her to swashing around.

"Oh, GOD!"

Her hands gripped her legs, which were shaking from the pleasure running through her body. She kept her hands running through her hair, letting out moans every few seconds.

"Tanya, so good," she said, her voice shaking.

Tanya continued her attack with her tongue, even sucking at a few points. Had she been thinking, Megan would've thought of how this was easily the best she'd ever been eaten out. Jane hardly ever did it, and then did it tepidly. She couldn't remember any especially memorable guys before her. Tanya had given her the best.

But, of course, in the heat of the moment, she couldn't. Her thoughts had left her as Tanya' tongue and mouth entered her.

She felt tension rising. She didn't want it to end so quickly. She wanted this to get even hotter.

"Push me against the fucking window," she said.

Tanya leaned back, and smiled. She grabbed her by the ass, picking her up, and then pushing her naked body against the sliding door, her breasts smothered. She wondered who might be getting a peek of this show.

She felt her go to her ass and lick around some, and she again let another moan. She then went to her pussy, and started fingering to boot as well. Megan's hands pounded against the glass door, and she couldn't believe her good fortune.

"Do whatever the fuck you want," she said. "Oh, fucking God."

The tension again picked up, and she realized if she wanted it to last longer, she should get her some off too. Otherwise, this was going to be her cumming in a matter of mere minutes from the master of eating pussy.

But, first, she had to catch her breath and find a moment when she wasn't panting like a dog in heat to do so. Tanya' tongue was that good—it was so powerful as to make it impossible for her to speak.

Finally, she caught a moment where she pulled back to catch her breath.

"Fuck, Tanya, you're so fucking good," she said. "Let me have some of your pussy."

Tanya nodded with a big grin and stood up. She immediately pulled her mouth in for a kiss, despite her mouth just having been on her crotch. The passion and heat remained, and Megan reached her hands down to her shorts and ripped them down. When she had her pussy, she let out a soft chuckle and began rubbing and fingering.

"My, you are juicy," she said.

She looked into her eyes, but when she did so, she recoiled a bit. Her eyes had turned yellow, and her face had begun twisting.

"Tanya, what the—"

"Go to the bedroom and lie on the bed, just go!"

She felt confused. Was this some elaborate sexual thing she did that would cause her to feel blown to smithereens at the end? It seemed like an awful lot when she had her tongue and presumably great sex skills at her disposal.

But then she saw what looked like blue fur start to poke through her skin and she screamed. She ran into the bedroom, as she commanded, and shut the door. When she got to the other side, still naked, she could hear Tanya groaning, but her groaning soon turned into a beast's roar. The beast, or whatever she had turned into, let out a long howl—it sounded like a wolf.

 _What the hell did I get myself into. This is what I get for cheating, isn't it._

Despite this, she had a feeling she wasn't in much trouble. Tanya had to have known she would do this, and she wouldn't invite her over if her… doing whatever she was doing would result in her being hurt or worse.

Right?

"Tanya?"

"BED!" the thing growled, in a much deeper baritone than before.

Not wasting anytime, Megan ran over to the bed and laid on her back. Still naked, she shivered a bit in the cool air. She waited, and then she heard the front door get knocked to the ground.

What came on the other side frightened her at first. It looked like a cross between a woman and a wolf. It stood on its hind legs, but had the facial features of a wolf and the tail to boot. And it boasted ripped abs to go with what looked like breasts still.

"Werewolf?" she said.

The beast growled and nodded.

"Yes," it said in an incredibly deep voice.

Megan stared, more confused than scared. She didn't think werewolves could talk. Then again, she didn't think werewolves were real.

"Are you still Tanya?"

The beast came closer, right up to the edge of the bed, and she swore it smirked.

"Yes."

Megan swallowed. She eyed the creature up, at its face. It had an intimidating look, with teeth being bared. But she felt secure, for some reason. She felt that was more to show off than it was to scare her. Like how a woman might flex her arms to show off, rather than say "I can choke you with this."

Then she eyed the creature down, and her eyes went wide. It had a monstrous cock, the kind of cock you saw in porn ads that was clearly fake—except here, it wasn't.

"How the hell… Tanya, you… what?"

The wolf murmured, and let out one word.

"Futa."

Megan's mind raced. Futa. A female with a dick. Still a woman, still the gender she liked, but with the benefits that only a man could provide.

In other words, she slowly realized, the best of both worlds.

She knew now she wouldn't need her tongue to get off—that monstrous cock alone might do the trick. Her fear slowly dissipated, replaced by arousal. Just what would that cock do inside her pussy?

"Do you still want to fuck?"

The beast definitely smiled.

"Yes, fuck," it said.

Megan smiled. It was still Tanya, but a seemingly upgraded version of Tanya.

"Well then, get to it."

The beast let out a roar. Megan's skin tingled as she felt her beginning to brush up against her legs and stomach. One fur strand poked her pussy and she squirmed, giggling. The beast got face to face with Megan, and let out one word.

"Fuck."

Megan smiled and spread her legs, positioning herself near the beast's dick.

 **4**

The beast slid in seconds later, and Megan's eyes went wide. She had not expected THAT. Granted, she didn't know what to expect with monster cock.

"Oh, FUCK, Tanya!"

Tanya let out a roar, and her thrusting began in earnest. Megan looked up at the creature, which had an intensity on its face that would've intimidated even the burliest of men. It was raw, powerful, and above all else, more potent than her husband's.

This was what she was missing. She was missing a woman in her life. She was taken to a male, but that did not mean she was taken to a woman. But Tanya… now she was a fucking woman. A savage, raw, beastly woman. She did what men should do. She took charge of her life and did things her way.

And in bed, she took charge and pounded her pussy better than five of her husbands could do at once.

"Grrrrrr," Tanya growled.

Her dick seemed to fill every part of her. Every crevice, every nerve, every sensation that could be—it was all hit, and it became too much. Her vision was beginning to fade, her hearing disappearing, as if someone had set off a grenade right by her. Of course, the only bomb was Tanya' dick inside her.

"Oh shit, oh shit, Tanya, slow down, slow down."

The beast looked down at her, baring its teeth, but it stopped its humping. It did, however, keep its cock inside her. She groaned and looked up at her with hair covering her face, the definition of a hot mess.

"You are going to knock me out from how fucking hot this sex is," she said.

Then she had an idea. She wanted some control with this too, and she needed to let herself dictate the pace for a bit.

"Flip over," she said.

Tanya looked down at her and growled. Megan had a moment of doubt and realized she had two options—let the wolf have its way entirely and have sex so good it would hurt, or get her way and have great sex without the pain, but possibly risk pissing off a creature that could destroy her.

Well, she was already cheating on her husband. What more could she risk?

"I said, roll over," she said, the words coming out braver than she actually was.

The wolf growled again, but much to Megan's pleasant surprise, it pulled out and collapsed on the bed. Its dick, moist from Megan's pussy, sprung into the air, waiting for her mouth or lower lips to suck on it. Megan smiled, and felt a raw sense of power she was sure the wolf felt when she went to work. Just as she had felt a surge of… a feeling of freedom, of liberation, when she left Jane, she was feeling it here. If she could handle a wolf, she could handle anything.

She spit on Tanya' dick and rubbed it a few times. Her eyes slanted and looked at the wolf. The wolf still looked intimidating from an objective view, but Megan literally felt no fear. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to get the wolf off.

"You want me on this thick thing, Tanya?"

The wolf appeared to try to respond, but the sensation running through her dick had become too much. She leaned her head back and let out a cry which came out like a howl. Megan chuckled, and she sucked for a few seconds. She could feel the dick swell—not quite to ready-to-cum stiffness, but definitely harder than a second ago.

"Mmmm, you do want it," she said.

She then straddled the wolf and slowly inserted herself on top of the cock. She cried as the dick penetrated, and being on top, it somehow felt like it was going deeper. Once she finally came down on the wolf's hips, she slowly began swinging her hips back and forth and cried out. She rested her hands on the wolf's taut abs and groaned softly. She flicked her hair to the side, and then let out a soft cry when the wolf's tail came up and began brushing her back.

"Oh, God, Tanya," she said.

She then bounced, her tips going along with her motion. She noticed the wolf staring with rapt attention at this, and exaggerated the motion as best as she could. She leaned back, resting her hands on Tanya' legs, and let out louder cries as she bounced.

She thought how she had not had sex like this in a while. Even accounting for Tanya being unfairly physically endowed, the enthusiasm and passion exhibited here surpassed anything back home with Jane. She didn't know how she'd go back to Jane after this.

Then, suddenly, the wolf gently pushed Megan forward, and she collapsed just inches from its mouth. For a brief second, she felt a tinge of terror, but it disappeared once the monster began thrusting its cock into her.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh God, oh fuck!"

The monster growled, but then surprised Megan after a few seconds when she pushed her off. She did so a little bit harder than normal and Megan felt out of control as she landed on the side of the bed—not nudged, but close to literally tossed. She landed on her stomach and sat her hips up, then turned around and smiled. The wolf was going to finish in the only appropriate position—doggie style.

"Yes, I love how rough you are, Tanya. Fucking destroy my pussy!"

The wolf wasted very little time achieving penetration, sliding in and going full throttle. The wolf then took its paw and slapped her ass, and Megan cried from the power of the paw. It felt so fucking good!

The wolf's dick, meanwhile, began to swell a little bit further, and Megan noticed the wolf's grunts becoming a bit more intense, a bit louder, and a little bit higher pitched.

"Yes, Tanya, I know what you're near," she said. "Give me that seed, give it to me like a fucking woman!"

She then sat up and leaned back, allowing Tanya access to her breasts. The wolf wasted no time, pawing at them. The stiffness in her cock increased, and Megan noticed that she, too, with the dizzying emotional arousal of a dominant woman, the physical pleasure of the wolf's dick and everything else going on, was close to orgasm. She could feel the tension forming in her pussy, and she knew she was just on edge.

"Oh God, we're both going to cum," she said in between pants.

The wolf's pounding hit its peak speed, and Megan lost control of her thoughts. She tilted her head back, stuck her chest out and began rubbing her clit to go with the wolf's pounding.

"Fucking cum!"

The tension reached a crescendo. The wolf let out a loud cry. It was right there.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck!"

And then it all released.

"Ahhhh!"

Megan yelled and thrashed within the wolf's grasp, who too had cum and was filling Megan's pussy with warm werewolf seed. Tanya cried out to the stars, and Megan could only scream and yell as her entire body rushed with warmth and excitement.

"Ohhhh, GOD! Fuuuuuuuck!"

The monster roared, surely waking up everyone within a five mile radius.

Finally, the monster's thrusting slowed down, and she removed himself. Megan collapsed on the bed, her eyes open, but only able to see the bedding in front of her. She panted heavily as she worked to regain the sensation in her body.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, she felt herself coming back down to normal.

"Jesus, Tanya," she said.

She rolled over to face the werewolf, but as soon as she did, there was no wolf. There, however, was still Tanya. She was full female, too—no cock. It was better this way, anyways. As a wolf, she could accept the fact that Tanya had a cock. But if she saw that perfect female body with it… it would seem like seeing a BMW with a truck bed behind it.

She grinned and invited her to cuddle.

"That was out of this world," she said, laughing.

Tanya chuckled too, and then the two of them cuddled, still naked, on top of the covers.

"I guess you know my little secret now," she said. "Arouse me, and you bring out the inner beast in me."

"Quite literally," Megan said. "And not-so-inner cock, it seems."

Then, for a second, without her own wishes, she thought back to Jane. She'd done it. She had cheated on her. Her partner.

But then she remembered what she had not done. She had not acted like a married partner. Even during sex, she was not doing her part. What choice did she leave her? She didn't mind wearing the pants in the relationship every so often, but she liked to take them off from time to time too.

She had no choice.

And when she chose a different question—instead of, "how do I make this work with Jane?" to, "who can I make this work with?"—her world seemingly exploded with excitement and pleasure.

"Thinking about your woman?" Tanya asked.

Megan did not answer, but then chuckled and she shared an intimate kiss with Tanya. After a few seconds, she pulled back and looked at her new woman.

"I was," she said. "But not anymore. You're my woman now, Tanya. All we need is time, and we'll be official."

Megan then eventually passed out, the feeling of werewolf cock still tingling inside her.

####


End file.
